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Chapter Text

Sebastian knew from the day they were teammates at Ferrari that he was in for a shit deal.

Not that he didn’t like Kimi. Quite the opposite. In fact, Seb would argue that the reason it was so shit was because he liked him.

In a way that few people liked their teammates.

In a way that the press would hang off every word of, a way that Sebastian would become the first driver to do something that nobody else dared.

So he mostly kept it bottled up.

He started it off causal. As casual as possible. What did that word even mean?

Give him a handshake.

When Seb thought casual, that was what came to mind.

Kimi walked into the room, and suddenly it was like winning four championships was easier than being fucking casual.

“Uh… hey.” Seb held out his hand.

Kimi just stared.

“Hi.”

He shook it.

Now Seb was feeling awkward (something that became increasingly common) as the Finn stood there, unfazed.

What should he say? Compliment his sunglasses?

“I, um, like your… uh…”

Sebastian had lost the ability to speak, to he gestured to his eyes.

Kimi seemed only then to remember that he was, in fact, wearing sunglasses at that exact moment.

“What? Oh, thanks.”

It was like he didn’t even try with words.

Seb had a hard time speaking when he was nervous, especially in English.

If he could talk in art, then life would be a whole lot easier.

“Why do you look so nervous?” Kimi asked, and Seb could have laughed.

“No, I’m just… tired.”

“I see.”

If this conversation was kept up for much longer, Seb thought he might spontaneously combust out of embarrassment.

“So.” Kimi said, flexing his wrists. “Testing in a couple of days. Are you ready?”

With Kimi Räikkönen as my teammate, I’m not ready for anything, Seb thought bitterly.

“Yup. Super ready.”

“So, see you then?”

“Uh, yeah. Definitely.”

“Cool. Bye.”

“Bye.”

•
It started one week into the break between the 2014 season and the 2015 season, in Seb’s house in Heppenheim.

The weather had been how it often was at this time of year; light rains that never really went away, cold grey skies and a soft wind that tickled his face.

Not really miserable, per se, but more cold and wet that some other places.

Lewis was splayed across the couch, a wrinkle of concentration between his brows as he typed out a caption on his Instagram post.

Absentmindedly fiddling with a loose string in one of his plump cushions, Seb was flicking through his sketchbook and reminiscing over the various drawing inside it.

A comfortable silence filled the air as both men continued with their activities.

But it had to be Lewis who broke the silence.

“So, Kimi’s your teammate?”

“Mhm…” Seb mumbled distractedly, not entirely focused on his best friend’s words.

“Must be tough.”

“Yeah.”

“I mean, with Nico as a teammate, I couldn’t be in for a shittier season.”

“Uh-huh…”

“Do you like him?”

Sebastian whipped round to face him, cheeks burning.

“What the fuck?”

Lewis grinned and swung his leg over the side of the sofa, oversized red t-shirt and green-and-white chequered trousers hanging loosely off his frame.

“No, Lewis, I don’t like him. Not in that way. Like, he’s a cool person. Very chill. But he not my type. Well, he is, but he’s… ugh, I…”

The Brit lazily threw an arm round the back of his head, making himself overly comfortable on the furniture.

“I see. So, what you’re trying to say is, you like him?”

Lewis said it almost accusingly, and Seb shot back a defensive reply.

“Maybe I do. Do you feel the same way about Nico?”

Shock was stricken across Lewis’s face.

“I, uh… no. Nope. Don’t like Nico. He’s an idiot. Hate him, even.”

Eager to change the subject, the Brit said,

“You never did answer my question.”

“About what?”

“Don’t dodge it, Seb.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Lewis raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow.

Seb scowled and turned away, face flushed with embarrassment.

“Fine. Maybe I do like him. Why do you care?”

“Because I’m you’re friend.”

“Yeah, so?”

“I’m gonna help you out.”

“With what?”

Lewis leaned back and gazed at the ceiling, the tattoo on his neck dark in contrast the the rest of his skin.

He stretched and yawned, before flashing his blindingly white smile at Seb.

“You’ll see.”

•
The off-season had passed quickly, almost without Seb noticing it.

He was glad to finally have a break from racing, however much he loved it.

During the months he’d had to himself, he hadn’t done anything in particular; learned a new song on the guitar, spent most of his time at home with his dog.

But now it was time to return to his career once more.

2015 would be Seb’s first year at Ferrari, a team he’d dreamt of racing for, one that had such a huge role in the legacy of his hero, Michael Schumacher.

It was an honour that he was still in shock to be receiving.

The Australia paddock was alive in the hours before free practice.

Seb’s jacket, the bright Ferrari red, was unfamiliar, but not uncomfortable.

He spotted Lewis, Jenson and Fernando in the far corner of his vision, chatting and being swarmed by a small army of press reporters.

Valterri and Kimi were talking in hushed voices, both Finns engaged in the conversation.

Seb passed them and crossed the paddock over to Lewis and the others.

“Wotcher, Seb!” Jenson said with a wide grin.

“Hey, Jense, and Lewis. And Fernando.”

He added the last part with a slight scowl as the Spaniard pretended not to notice.

“Have a good break?” The cheery McLaren driver asked.

“Yeah. Didn’t do much.”

“Except daydream about Kimi the entire time?” Lewis asked with a sly smile.

Had they not been in public, Seb would’ve decked his best friend right there.

Jenson raised an eyebrow and Fernando failed to surpress laughter.

“Daydreaming about your teammate? This is new.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Seb has a crush on Kimi.”

“Lewis, shut up!” Seb snapped, loud enough to turn a few heads.

Fernando chuckled.

“Yeah. We have eyes. Kimi is definitely your type. I could so see you guys together.”

Nothing was standing between Seb and knocking his annoying rival’s teeth in.

Seeing his expression, Jenson stepped in.

“No need to fight, lads. Not before a race, that is. See you all after FP1?”

“Yeah.”

Seb trudged down to the Ferrari building, his eyes on the ground.

He didn’t think about looking where he was going; he let his mind wander.

Because of this, he was unaware of someone else walking towards him, also not focused on his surroundings.

They collided, and Seb almost had a heart attack when he noticed who it was.

“Kimi! Uh, sorry.”

“No worries, my fault.” The Finn replied.

Panic flooded Seb until the only words he could think of were, whatdoisaywhatdoisaywhatdoisay?

“Did you have a good break?” Kimi asked smoothly.

“Yep. What about you?” Seb replied, forcing a smile.

“Ah, nothing much. Just stayed at home.”

“Me too.”

Say something! Anything! Think of something!

In a sudden rush of bravery, Seb said the first thing that came to mind.

“Do you like badminton?” He blurted.

There was a long silence as the Finn just stared with a perplexed expression.

“Do I like… badminton?”

“Yeah.”

“I love badminton. Why?”

“I, um, I—“ Seb had no idea why he’d even brought up badminton in the first place.

It was a sport he enjoyed and often used to play as a kid when he took karting a little less seriously.

“Do you want to play sometime?” Seb asked, feeling increasingly less confident about the outcome of this conversation.

There was a brief moment of silence in which hope rose in Seb’s chest.

“I… sure. Yeah, I’d love to play.”

“Really?”

“When works for you?”

“After Qualifying tomorrow?”

“Sounds good.”

“Sebastian? Kimi?”

A deep voice from above them startled both drivers.

Maurizio Arrivabene frowned down on them, his dark eyebrows wrinkled.

“What are you doing, standing around? Get inside. Free practice starts soon.”

The Finn left before Seb could say anything more, leaving him outside the Ferrari building on his first day at the team, with an accepted badminton invite from Kimi Räikkönen.

Chapter Text

Almost the second Qualifying ended, Seb had retreated to his driver’s room and collapsed on the bed.

He’d Qualified fourth; for a four-time world champion, that wasn’t exactly a display of his skills.

Feeling slightly drained, he’d stripped out of his race suit and fireproofs and changed into a hoodie and joggers.

And right there, he would’ve fallen into a peaceful sleep if he hadn’t been disturbed by a knocking on his door.

Well, more like a furious pounding, like someone was trying to beat the door down with their bare hands.

“Who is it?” Seb called, rubbing his eyes.

He wasn’t in the mood to deal with media duties today, whatever his PR assistant said.

“Vettel!” Screamed an infuriated Spanish voice.

Sighing, Seb opened the door to a fuming Fernando Alonso.

“Yes, Nando?”

In a split second, the Spaniard had Seb pinned to the wall by his shoulders.

“Jesus— calm down, what’s going on?”

“What did you do to Jenson?”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, what the fuck did you do to Jenson?”

“I didn’t do anything to him, is he okay?”

“I don’t fucking know, I found him crying outside his motorhome, and when he saw me he ran away!”

“And you think this is my fault?”

It wasn’t unusual for Fernando to blame everything on Seb, but the German was worried about his friend.

Jenson never cried; not once in the eight years Seb had known him.

“You were the last person who spoke to him.”

“Fernando, I didn’t do anything! Come on, I’ll help you look for him. He can’t have just wandered off, he’ll still be in the paddock.”

Just then, Seb’s phone vibrated in his pocket.

A text from Kimi.

“Ah, fuck…” Seb groaned, thinking about their badminton meet later.

“What is it?”

Seb tucked his phone back into his pocket.

“Nothing.”

His meet with Kimi would have to wait, right now Seb had to find his friend.

•
“He’s nowhere to be seen.” Lewis confirmed them as Seb and Fernando shifted nervously.

After a whole hour of searching, and all their calls being sent straight to voicemail, Seb was beginning to panic.

What if he’d been attacked? What if he’d been kidnapped, or hit by a car, or—

“This is ridiculous.” Fernando said, anxiously ripping his fingernails apart with his teeth. “He could be anywhere.”

“Why don’t we split up?” Lewis suggested. “Seb goes and checks the McLaren garage again, Fernando checks Jenson’s driver’s room, and I’ll check his hotel room.”

“Yeah, fine.” Fernando muttered, flouncing off in the direction on Jenson’s driver’s room.

Lewis gave Seb a small smile and turned away to check the hotel.

Reluctantly, Seb shuffled towards McLaren.

There was a rustle in the bushes nearby and he raised his head, looking left and right.

Maybe it was just the wind.

Seb picked up the pace a little, trying to ignore the creeping feeling that lingered over his back.

He needed to stop being ridiculous: nothing was watching him, this was the Formula One paddock.

As he thought that, there was a soft sniffle, and Seb turned around to see Jenson looking straight at him.

The man’s eyes were red and puffy, his hair messed, and he was still in his race suit.

Seb instantly rushed forwards.

“Jense, what happened? Where were you? Are you hurt?”

“I…” the driver tried to form words, but just broke down into tears again.

He was shivering and sniffling, and looked a mess.

“Please don’t tell Nando.” Was all he said.

“Mate, I… I won’t tell him. I promise. But you need to tell someone, alright? Come with me.”

Seb gently guided him back to his hotel room, making sure to check at all times that Fernando wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

When they reached Seb’s hotel room, the Brit perched on the edge of the bed, and Seb sat beside him.

“Tea?”

He nodded shakily, and Seb boiled the kettle, bringing back two steaming mugs of herbal tea.

“Alright. So, what’s wrong?”

Jenson shuffled his feet, and Seb could tell that it was going to be a challenge to get the older driver to talk.

“You don’t have to tell me, but whatever it is, I’ll listen.”

There was a pause.

“Promise you won’t make fun of me?”

Seb gave him a reassuring smile.

“Promise.”

“Well, you see, I… I like Fernando.”

“You… like Fernando?”

“Yeah. Well, I’d thought about it for weeks, and I was ready to tell him today. And I was so excited, so I went to his hotel room, but as I turned the corner, he was there, and… he was kissing Mark.”

“Mark Webber?”

“No, Seb, Mark Ruffalo. Yes, it was Mark Webber. And I was so scared and upset that I just left. And I know it’s childish, but it just really got to me, and I got back to my motorhome and started crying. Nando must’ve seen me earlier, because he came over and saw me crying, and I knew he’d ask me about it, so I sort of… hid.”

“You could’ve come to me or Lewis! We were worried sick!”

“I-I know…”

The poor man looked on the verge of more tears, so Seb wrapped his arms around him.

“I’m so sorry, Jenson.”

“It’s fine.”

Seb’s phone vibrated.

Kimi: Where are you?

“Fuck!” Seb said out loud. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…”

He’d forgotten all about the badminton meet.

“What is it?”

“Jenson, I am so sorry, but there’s somewhere that I had to be a while ago but I got caught up in looking for you and—“

“It’s alright, Seb. Go.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Seb just barely remembered to grab his racquet and some clothes that were appropriate for playing badminton in, before stumbling into the sunlight and clambering onto his motorbike, but not before texting a reply.

Seb: So sorry, traffic is shit. I’ll be five minutes.

Now he could only hope he was able to do so.

•
After breaking multiple speed limits, cutting in front of a considerable number of cars and going about twenty miles faster than was probably legal, Seb made it.

He’d never run so fast in his life when he sprinted out onto the courts and saw Kimi standing there, phone in hand, light frown plastered on his face.

Seb must’ve made a ruckus, because he raised his head and the German was once more reminded of the Finn’s beauty.

“I…” he panted, “am so sorry.”

“Bwoah, it’s fine.” Kimi said.

No, it’s not fine and now I’m panicking and you probably hate me and I don’t know what to do and—

“Seb? You okay?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Fine.”

They played, the score constantly going up.

One minute, Seb would be in the lead, but mere seconds later, he’d be losing badly.

Seb was just about ready to admit he was sort of happy with himself for inviting Kimi to play.

Eventually, after a long-fought game, Kimi won 11-12.

“Well done.” Seb said, chugging some water.

“You too.”

Seb checked his phone and quickly texted Jenson.

Seb: Feeling any better?

Jenson: Yeah, thanks for the support, and for the tea :)

Slipping his phone away, he turned back to Kimi.

“This was fun. We should have a rematch.”

“Rematch?” Kimi scoffed. “You’re just salty that I beat you.”

There was a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

“I’m not bitter!”

“Yes, you are.”

“I will beat you right here, right now.”

“Sure, sure.”

Now Seb was smiling, feeling the air turn warm around him.

Or maybe that was the thirty degree heat of Australia.

“See you tomorrow on race weekend?” He asked.

“Definetly.”

Chapter Text

Seb knew he was dreaming.

Well, to put it more accurately, he hoped he was dreaming. Because if he wasn’t, the last few months of his life had been some fever dream that he wanted to wake up from.

The first reason for this conclusion was that Seb felt lightheaded, and all sound was distant and cloudy.

The second was Michael. Michael Schumacher sat beside him, watching something on tv, munching on the crisps Seb he given him.

These dreams came often. The ones where he relived the memories with the man he missed so much.

They should’ve been nice, a gentle reminder of his old life as a close friend of the man he idolised as a child.

But they hit like bullet trains and haunted him. Seb hadn’t seen a single member of the Schumacher family since it happened. Michael’s accident.

The one to tell him had been Corinna, and Seb had visited at the hospital to give them his condolences. He was already half way to breaking down right there, and the look of exhaustion and depression on Mick’s face didn’t help with the tears he felt gathering in his eyes.

Seb didn’t want to see Michael, not in the state he was in and would probably be in for the rest of his life.

So he’d got on his motorcycle and left behind the Schumachers, knowing at the end of the day that Michael was his friend, but to them, he was everything.

Michael wasn’t dead, but he might as well have been. Seb would never see him again, that was for sure.

The dreams hit the night he’d gone to the hospital. They started off as flashes, glimpses into the life he’d taken for granted, almost like it was mocking him.

Then they evolved to the conversations they’d had, that became clear as day in Seb’s head.

It wasn’t until a couple of weeks ago that they started being actual memories, so vivid and real that he felt like he was actually there.

No, Seb wasn’t going to tell anyone. He wasn’t in need of therapy or anything, and what would his friends do about it?

His only option was to go back to the Schumachers. And what, burden them with even more grief? Seb had no right to do such a thing.

This dream was like all the others. They’d watched shitty German tv until late at night. A then 8 year old Mick was fast asleep upstairs, as was Corinna, and Michael had invited him round for the evening.

Even though Michael told him time and time again that they were friends, he still felt the need to be formal. Michael was like royalty to him.

“Die sind gut.” Michael commented, grinning at Seb and pointing to the crisps. “Der Fernseher ist jedoch scheiße.”

Seb chuckled lightly and reached for the remote, flicking through the channels.

“Nicht viel auf.” He’d said. “Es sei denn, Sie interessieren sich für MTV?”

Michael smiled and nodded.

“Ich liebe MTV.” He said excitedly.

For some reason, Seb had found it hard to see Michael as someone who danced to MTV every day.

But nonetheless, he switched it on and it instantly started blasting ‘99 Luftballons’.

Michael started singing along, and Seb didn’t often listen to music, so he was embarrassed to say that he didn’t know the lyrics.

But it wasn’t until Michael started dancing like a madman, making Seb laugh, that he realised it didn’t matter, and he just smiled.

Seb had almost forgotten about that night, so when he blinked open his eyes, head throbbing, the realization that he had a race that day had never seemed worse.

He felt hung over, but he hadn’t drank that week. Wincing, he clutched his head as he stood up, blinking away the dark spots that danced in his vision.

All he had to do was race. Just get in a car and sit through a hour and a half. That was all.

But it felt like the hardest thing ever when his head hurt like a bitch. Seb grabbed an apple from the bowl on his kitchen table, deciding he’d feel better after he’d eaten.

These mild bouts of sickness came and went after one of those dreams about Michael plagues his sleep. They went away after an hour or so, but caused him pain and made it tough to train.

He changed into his Ferrari shirt and shorts, because it was far too hot for jeans, complete with the cap that still had foam packaging under the peak.

Seb took his bike to the track that day. He went with it everywhere; as much of a road car nerd as he was, motorbikes felt cooler.

He remembered when those owning a motorcycle back home in Heppenheim were like royalty. Even when something else became trendy, Seb still desired to ride one because he preferred them.

During the short journey, his pounding headache went away. Well, it lessened, which was a mild to moderate improvement.

As soon as he locked up his bike and scoped around the busy paddock for his friends, Lewis whizzed past on his scooter and stole the cap off his head.

“Hey!” Seb chased after him, and only stopped when Lewis ground to a halt, tossing his Mercedes cap into the crowd of people and putting on the Ferrari one.

“Looks better, don’t you think?” He joked, striking a pose like he was modelling.

“Give it back.” Seb held out his hand, but he grinned when Lewis reluctantly took off the cap and handed it back.

“Now I don’t have a hat.” He muttered.

“Hey, Seb.” Kimi walked past, flanked by Valtteri and that kid from Formula 3, Antonio.

For a few silent moments, Seb just stared after the Finn, who’d walked straight past him like it was nothing.

And… he’d said hello. Did that make them friends? Were they friends now? Was that true?

Seb felt confused by Kimi. Mostly because he couldn’t read inobvious emotions, and his emotions seemed nonexistent.

Lewis saw the look on his face and chuckled.

“You really are in love with him, aren’t you?”

Seb scowled.

“I’m not in love with him. That’s a bit extreme. I like him. A little.”

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Douchemeister and Vegan Ham?” Fernando strutted past.

“Nice you see you too, Nando.” Seb grumbled. It was never nice to see his rival.

“I’m sure it is. Anyway, you ready to fail this race like you failed every race last year?”

Wow, way to raise Seb’s confidence when he was already distracted.

“I’m ready to beat you. Which shouldn’t be that hard.” Seb retorted.

Fernando turned away from Seb, and toward Jenson, who ambled into the paddock, looking significantly better than yesterday.

“Hey, Jenson!” He called. “Where were you? We searched everywhere last night.”

Jenson didn’t even make eye contact with the Spaniard, but smiled at Lewis and Seb.

“Sorry, both of you. I, er… had to go. Personal matters.”

Jenson was ignoring Fernando? They were best friends, and Fernando had been worried sick yesterday.

Then Seb remembered what Jenson had told him, and he realised that he was probably far from over what he had seen.

Fernando looked hurt and taken aback. Jenson was never like this with him.

“See you after the race?” He said. “Meeting at McLaren right about now. Catch you later.”

He glared at Fernando, in a way that said you’d better not follow me.

Lewis looked at Seb, clearly as shocked as Nando was.

“Yeah. Me too.” Seb said, retreating to the Ferrari garage.

He was nowhere near ready for this race.

Chapter Text

However unready Seb thought he was, he was still impressed with his results from the race.

He managed to get an early lead, something that wasn’t uncommon for him.

Pastor’s DNF was basically predicted; he was, as Fernando cruelly put it, the Crashmeister.

But Kimi’s retirement due to car troubles was less anticipated. Seb didn’t have time to feel bad, though.

When he finished third, Seb decided that maybe this season was looking up. He’d scored a podium on the first race and he was proud of himself.

Gone were the days of pushing for first and going above and beyond to achieve his goals. Seb wanted to finally follow the advice Michael gave him: think about racing, not winning.

Of course, that wasn’t to say any wins were unwelcome. He’d still strive for first, but be less hellbent on achieving it.

Podium celebrations felt better this year. The familiar sting of champagne in his eyes was a beautiful feeling, and the memories of his championship-winning days flooded his brain.

As Nico and Lewis tried to attack each other with champagne, Seb chugged a few gulps of the liquids, relishing in the taste he’d missed over the break.

He never quite realised until he got back just how much of his life and daily schedule racing dominated. Without it, days were long and free.

Now they were filled with team meetings and press conferences, podium celebrations and training sessions, races and rivalry.

And, in all honesty, Seb loved it. He’d dreamed of this life since he was a small child.

After the race and some agonising interviews with the press, Seb rode home on his motorcycle and burst into his apartment.

The sofa was his saving grace as he downed a few glasses of water and changed into more comfortable clothes.

He would’ve fallen asleep right there if he hadn’t had adrenaline pumping through his veins.

He’d only sat down for a couple of minutes when he heard a notification on his phone.

Kimi: Badminton rematch?

Seb grinned. He was always down for some badminton with his friend.

Seb: I’d love to. I won’t be late this time :D

He put his racquet and a bottle of water into a duffel bag and unlocked the bike he’d been on minutes before, making it to the courts before Kimi.

Whilst he waited for the Finn, he couldn’t help but remember all the times they’d spoken before Seb joined Ferrari.

Despite them not currently being all that close anymore, Kimi was the first friend Seb made on the grid when he joined F1.

The others took a little while to warm up to him, but Kimi, for the cold and emotionless guy people took him for, actually struck up a conversation.

Lewis, of course, had come a little bit later. Whilst they were already acquainted, they didn’t grow into best friends until they started to actually compete for titles.

Kimi didn’t have a best friend on the grid, although he had multiple close ones. His friendship with Seb lessened to simple waves and nods of greeting from across the paddock.

They hadn’t really spoken since Kimi and him celebrated his 2013 championship.

All throughout 2014, they never really got the time to actually talk and be friends like they used to be. Seb had all but forgotten what it was like to be around the iceman, so he was terrified to go from nothing to basically always around the Finn.

Kimi scared him, as well as intrigued and amused him (sometimes) mainly because he was older and more experienced.

Seb always learned things from him, but the rift in their friendship made Seb nearly forget about him.

“Hey, Seb.” Kimi strolled into the courts and dumped down his bag, nodding at the German. He rarely smiled.

“Hi, Kimi. Sorry about the race.”

Kimi hid his face by rummaging around in his bag.

“No worries. It’s not your fault.”

When they played, Seb though back to the dream. ‘99 Luftballoons’ was ringing in his ears too loudly for him to concentrate on the game.

All he could hear was Michael’s laughter, and the music getting louder, drowning out every other noise, filling every inch of his head…

“You okay? What’s going on?” Kimi asked.

Seb realised he’d just stopped in the middle of the game and shook his head, the music fading.

“What? Oh. Um, sorry.” Seb mentally slapped himself. “Yeah. We can keep playing. If you want. I mean, it’s up to you. We can stop. Do you want to keep playing?”

“Bwoah, stop stressing. It’s unlike you.” Kimi said. “Yes, we can keep playing.”

Kimi beat him 10-nil in the end. Seb hadn’t been able to focus, and he’d just been too caught up in the dream.

Maybe he did need therapy, because it was becoming unbearable. It would start affecting his race results soon.

“What’s going on? You played like shit.” Kimi commented, sipping water.

“Got a lot on my mind.” Seb replied. Why would he even tell Kimi about the dreams?

The Finn, true to the rumours, was no guru with emotions. And he’d probably think Seb was crazy.

“Right. Well, I’d like to keep playing sometime until you finally beat me with those trash skills of yours.”

Seb flicked some water at him.

“Hey, hey, I’m not the one who lost 10-nil to a guy who hasn’t played badminton in 20 years!”

Seb shook his head and sighed, smiling. He and the Iceman hadn’t talked this much in years, and it was refreshing.

Well, as refreshing as it could be be when he constantly felt on the verge of spontaneous combustion.

“See you soon, Seb.” He shoved his phone into his bag and left the courts, leaving the German alone with his thoughts.

•
Right when he thought he could finally get a couple of minutes of sleep, Seb was disturbed by yet another knock on his door.

“Open up, it’s me.” Lewis said.

Seb opened the door and saw his best friend with his arms folded, looking expectant.

“What?” He asked, feeling nervous at the look Lewis was giving him.

“You want to tell me what the hell went on with Jense and Nando?” He demanded. “I know Jenson, he doesn’t speak to anyone like that, and he most certainly doesn’t ignore his best friend.”

Seb checked the coast was clear and dragged Lewis into his apartment, sighing. He’d promised Jenson he wouldn’t tell anyone, but Lewis deserved an answer.

“Look. Jense would actually murder me if he knew I was telling you this, but he’s in love with Fernando, and Fernando’s in love with Mark, and he found that out yesterday when he walked in on them kissing on his way to confess to Fernando like a teenager.”

Lewis’s face slackened.

“Oh, shit. That sucks. It also explains a lot.”

“Yeah. That’s why Jenson disappeared yesterday, he was moping and hiding from Nando.”

“Well, you know what this means.” Lewis said, dropping down onto the couch.

Seb frowned. When Lewis said something like that, it was never good.

“No, I don’t.”

The Brit looked at him like he was crazy.

“Obviously, Seb! We’re gonna set them up with each other!”

Seb rolled his eyes. This had to be up there with the stupidest idea Lewis had thought up.

“We’re not going to do that. As much as I hate Nando, we can’t ruin his relationship.”

Lewis sighed.

“But it’s making Jenson depressed, we have to do something.”

“Lewis, we’re not interfering. End of.”

“Aha, and that’s where you’re wrong, my German friend, for I have a plan.”

“Oh yeah? Does it involve sabotaging the lives and careers of both Mark and Fernando to get him to date Jenson instead?”

“You bet. Now I have two couples to make canonical.”

“Canon-what?”

“You’ll understand when you’re older, Vettel.”

Seb was pretty sure he’d never understand the other driver.

Chapter Text

Seb was more than grateful that he didn’t have any more Michael-related dreams that week.

He more or less slept peacefully, with only the searing Australian heat to disturb him.

Unfortunately, as he flew over to Malaysia for the next race, the heat was not improved. In fact, it only got progressively worse.

But he at least managed to get a few hours of sleep each night, which was good.

When free practice for the Malaysian Grand Prix rolled around, Seb was more than excited for another race at one of his best tracks.

He won there a decent amount of the time, but the track wasn’t always in his favour, 2012 being a good example of that.

Seb was talking to Lewis and Jenson, throwing Nando a glare every couple of minutes.

Unfortunately, Jenson was still ignoring the Spaniard. Seb understood that he was pissed, but he had a feeling this went deeper than the rejection he had faced.

The two were normally inseparable. A nuclear bomb couldn’t keep them apart for long. But now Jenson was taking every opportunity given to avoid Nando.

Lewis and him had agreed to keep Operation JensoNando (Lewis’s words, not Seb’s) a secret for now, and Seb reluctantly accepted that there was no changing the Brit’s mind.

So their first course of action was to get them to spend more time with each other.

“Hey, Nando, can I steal you for a sec?” Lewis asked.

Fernando frowned at him.

“What could you want with me, Vegan Ham?” He asked, frustration and confusion in his tone.

“Uh, I’ll make it quick. Promise.”

“Fine, whatever.”

This left Seb and Jenson alone. He waited until the two drivers were out of sight to say,

“Oh, that reminds me, I need to show you something, too.”

“Alright. But be quick, not long until free practice.”

Seb dragged him in the direction of Lewis’s driver’s room. They’d lock them in their and leave them, even if they missed free practice, until they made up.

“Why don’t we just let them do it naturally?” Seb had asked, not keen on attracting media attention to the already-exhausted Jenson.

“Because you know Jenson. He’ll hold a grudge for years. He’s made enemies out of people he’s known since karting days because of it.”

Jenson stood expectantly outside Lewis’s door, frowning at Seb.

“Well?” He said impatiently.

Seb peered past Jenson’s shoulder and saw Lewis giving his a thumbs up.

Opening up the door, he said to the Brit,

“Look in here one sec.”

Jenson stood in the doorway, sighing, clearly not fooled by Seb’s stalling.

“There’s nothing in here. Wait, Fernando?”

Quickly, Seb shoved him face first into the room and locked the door, looking through the keyhole and seeing a shocked Jenson staring back at him.

“Sebastian!” He yelled. “What is this tomfoolery?”

“You guys need to make peace with each other or something.” Lewis said. “I don’t know what happened, but whatever it is is making it insufferable to be around you at the same time. We’re not letting you out until you do, not even for free practice.”

Seb thought he’d seen Jenson angry. But now? The look on his face made the Hulk look like Kermit.

“Seriously? You’re locking us in your driver’s room until I forgive this idiot?”

Through the keyhole, Seb saw Fernando frown.

“Forgive me? What did I do?”

At that exact moment, Kimi walked past in his driver’s suit, and nodded at them both.

“Hey Seb. Hey Lewis.”

He paused, looking at the door with a confused expression.

“Who’s in there?” Kimi asked, looking slightly scared.

“Seb locked us in here!” Jenson shouted, pounding the door with his fists.

He flushed as the Finn looked at him.

“I… don’t think I want to know, if I’m being honest.” He said.

“No.” Lewis told him, inspecting his nails. “You really don’t.”

“Alright!” Jenson snapped. “Nando. I’m sorry for ignoring you. You’re my best friend and I love you, I shouldn’t have been a dickhead to you.”

There was a long silence in which Fernando said nothing.

“Jense… please just tell me why you were angry in the first place.” The Spaniard all but mumbled.

“I can’t. But I’m not angry anymore.”

There was the rustling of fabric and Seb saw them hugging.

“Okay, you’re released.” He said, unlocking the door. “Shit, we need to run, we’re late for free practice.”

“Fuck you, Vettel.” Fernando grumbled. “Ron will have my head if we miss anything.”

“Can I ask why you locked Fernando and Jenson in Lewis’s driver’s room?” Kimi asked.

“It’s for Operation JensoNando.” Lewis explained. “Hey, you should totally join us!”

If Lewis hadn’t already done a Michelin star job of embarrassing Seb in front of Kimi, he’d done it now.

“Operation JensoNando?” The Finn frowned.

“Yup. Jenson is in love with Fernando and Fernando is in love with Jenson, so we’re setting them up.”

Kimi, Seb noticed, didn’t look fazed in the slightest at the news that two of the drivers like each other.

In all honesty, Seb didn’t think the end of humanity would faze Kimi. He was the iceman, after all.

“Sure.” He said, shrugging. “I guess I’ll help. But we’re five minutes late for free practice.”

“Oh. You’re right.”

Seb would need all of his remaining luck not to get decapitated by Maurizio.

•
It wasn’t a particularly interesting free practice. Seb would’ve rather spent it doing something else, like guitar or sketching something.

In FP1, he came third after Kimi and Nico. FP2 he was seventh, far from his best result, but he tried not to beat himself up about it.

He improved mildly in FP3, getting fourth. Seb would be lying if he said he didn’t wish for fastest, but then again, who didn’t?

After he was done racing, he decided he would do something better with his time than mope about his mediocre performance.

So he took his sketchbook to the balcony of the Ferrari motorhome and tried to draw the crowds of people below.

Unfortunately, his pencil kept smudging and making the individual rough shapes look like slightly mishappen potatoes.

Drawing was a hobby of his that he often did to pass the time. He wasn’t that good, but it was relaxing.

Especially when he wanted to calm down or distance himself from people, or even when he was just bored.

Seb reached for the eraser on the table and rubbed out the splotches, trying again, but he couldn’t get the people to look right.

“Penny for your thought?” A deep accent said behind him.

Seb flinched and turned around to see Kimi chewing gum and looking at his phone.

If he told the Finn what he was thinking, he didn’t suspect he’d care much.

“Oh, hey Kimi.”

“You drawing?” He asked, looking up.

“Um, yeah. Why?”

He slowly made his way over and perched beside him, inspecting the drawing.

“Sorry. It’s not good. I drew it in a hurry.”

“What nonsense are you spewing, Vettel? It’s not bad at all.”

Seb didn’t think up until now that the Finn was capable of saying something so wholeheartedly.

“Thank you.” He said quietly.

“But I have to admit, the people look a bit fucked up.”

“I know. I can’t seem to draw it right.”

Kimi took the pencil and started to draw something.

What now, you’re going to tell me this man is also some kind of artist? Seb thought, shaking his head fondly.

As it turned out, he was. In the place of the messy blobs Seb had drawn were fully discernible people.

“How did you do that?” He was genuinely curious.

“Simple. Just trace the figure and work on shading like you did for the Alfa motorhome. The shading goes under the neck and in an oval on the floor around them, and they have to be at uneven intervals or else it’ll look coordinated. But it’s actually kind of good.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Chapter Text

Even though they were annoying, it was nice to see two of Seb’s best friends (rephrase, one of Seb’s best friends and his worst enemy) no longer ignoring each other.

The only small hiccup in the plan of Operation JensoNando was that they had no idea where to go from here.

“I still don’t understand why it’s so important that we set these two up with each other.” Kimi said, as he and Lewis perched on the sofa inside Seb’s driver’s room.

“Because,” Lewis said, straightening the creases in his oversized purple top, “they are in love and it’s bloody painful to watch.”

“Can’t they just work it out on their own?” Seb protested. He didn’t like the idea of forcing them together.

“Sebastian.” The German scowled as his friend drew his name out slowly and placed his hands on the table. “Jenson is a smart lad. And Nando? Well, Nando is… not.”

“Burn.” Kimi muttered, playing candy crush on his phone.

“I’ve asked you once, I’ve asked you twice and I’ll ask you again. Do you really think they’re going to work it out without a nudge in the right direction?”

Seb thought about it. Jenson wasn’t one for making his feelings clear, and he didn’t see how else Nando was going to work it out.

“I guess you’re right. But what to do now?”

“And there, my good, innocent friend, is where my aspect of the plan lies.”

“Isn’t every aspect of the plan yours?” Kimi pointed out.

“Silence, Finnish man. Anyways, I’ve decided that the only way to get Fernando to realise his feelings for anyone is to break up with Mark.”

“Shit idea. I hate it.” Seb said. “I’ve already told you I’m against sabotaging Mark’s life because of Jenson.”

“Me too.” Kimi said, although Seb didn’t think he actually cared that much.

“Lads, lads, lads.” Lewis stood up and gestured around dramatically. “All in favour of not interfering and letting Jense suffer, say I.”

“I.” Kimi said, without missing a beat.

“Mate, why are you even here?” Lewis looked slightly annoyed.

Kimi shrugged, unpausing his impressively long Candy Crush level.

“I dunno. You put me on the spot.”

Lewis sighed and rolled his eyes, collapsing defeatedly onto a chair and looking at Seb.

“Sebastian. My lifeline. The only sensible person in this room. Tell me you think we should break up Mark and Nando.”

Seb paused. Kimi was right, it was a pretty dumb decision to try and interfere with other people’s relationship.

“Look. I’m not saying I like Mark. Why don’t we just nudge them in the right direction for now?”

The Brit looked slightly downcast at the prospect of not being able to fuck up Mark’s love life, but nodded.

“Okay. But first, Quali!”

•

Sebastian was happy qualifying second place after Lewis. Normally, he wouldn’t rest until he was first, but this time he was happy to settle.

He had been rooting for Malaysia to be a good race. It never played directly in his favour, but he tended to have a good position overall.

This year, after what happened to Michael, he was ready to take thing a little less seriously.

That, of course, didn’t mean he was unwilling to fight.

He took his sketchbook up to the balcony again, and was surprised to see that Kimi was already there.

“Oh. Hey, Kimi.” The Finn turned to look at him. He had one earplug in, the other hanging loosely around his shirt, and clearly had planned on being alone.

“Afternoon, Seb.” He said, nodding at the sketchbook in his hand. “Did you draw the people?”

“Yeah. Thanks for the advice.”

“Bwoah, it’s fine.” Kimi took out the other earplug and pulled out another chair.

As Seb sat down, he asked,

“Do you draw often?”

The Finn shook his head, tapping at something on his phone. Probably another Candy Crush game.

“I used to when I was young. I couldn’t draw shit now, I just remember the technique I used to use. You?”

“Ah, same. It was one of the things I did alongside karting, but I only really started doing it again recently.”

Kimi paused, busying himself by scrolling through his phone. Then, he turned to Seb.

“Can I see? Your sketchbook?”

He’s asking to look at my sketchbook. What if he thinks it’s shit? Who am I kidding, it’s Kimi, he’s thinks everything’s shit.

Seb nodded and handed it over. As Kimi flicked through the pages, he tried his best to read his expression.

Unfortunately, his face didn’t give anything away.

“Um… is it good?” A part of him wished he hadn’t asked.

“It’s very good.” Seb smiled, but he wasn’t entirely sure if the Finn was telling the truth or lying to protect his feelings.

Then again, Kimi didn’t tend to make a huge effort in sparing people’s feelings.

“What’s your favourite?”

“This one.” He pointed to the one he had drawn of a highway, setting sun in the background, cars littering the horizons.

Seb was quite proud of it. And he was more surprised that Kimi liked it, so after a moment’s decision, he said,

“Then keep it.”

The Finn looked at him quizzically.

“Keep it? This is your art, though. I don’t want it.”

Seb shrugged, giving him a small smile.

“Yeah, but I don’t want it either. It’s my art, so I get to decide what to do with it, and I, Sebastian Vettel, with the power vested in me by four championships and German spirit, hereby rename it yours.”

Kimi gently tore it from the book and put it in his backpack.

“Thanks. Speaking of which, you finally improved at badminton so that we can have an actual match?”

“Shut up.” Seb grinned foolishly. “I’m very good at badminton, I was just distracted that day.”

“Yeah? Okay. Tomorrow works for you? Because I’m getting bored of beating you all the time.”

“And I’m getting bored of having three more championships than you.” Seb shot back, earning a cuff on the head from Kimi.

“Quiet, Vettel. If I actually had a good car, I could beat you any day.”

“But you don’t. So you won’t.”

Kimi sighed, smiling slightly. Seb put away his sketchbook and stood up.

“Well. I’ve got to go. Danny’s having one of his Saturday movie nights that he throws randomly, and I’m only showing up because he agreed to watch Lord of the Rings.”

“Great. Well, see you tomorrow.”

“Yep.”

If he had been alone and not at all at risk of being caught by one of the other drivers, or worse, a fan, Seb would’ve done a victory dance.

Right now, he was incredibly proud of the fact that Seb had managed to somehow repair his flimsy friendship with Kimi.

He stopped by Daniel’s door and knocked twice. The Aussie opened it and flashed his signature smile.

“Hey, Seb. Come in, Sergio’s making cocktails.”

Surprisingly, only Checo, Danny, Lewis, Jenson and Fernando were here.

Seb had heard tales of the fabled movie night in which Checo made one of his cocktails and everyone ended up watching horror films.

Even Daniel’s best friend Max didn’t come, which was unusual.

“So. Lewis told me about Kimi.” Daniel began, sipping on his mojito.

Seb promptly choked on his grasshopper.

“Lewis, what the actual fuck, I told you to keep it a secret!”

“I didn’t even need to speak, he worked it out for himself.”

“Is it that obvious?” Seb mumbled. The worst possible scenario imaginable was that of Kimi finding out.

“Well. I may have texted the whole grid about it.” Daniel said, pointing to his phone on the counter. “Save for the iceman himself, of course.”

Seb splashed what was left of his drink on the Aussie, who shook droplets of green liquid out of his hair, glaring at him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s fine, but we need to devise a plan to get you two together.”

“No, Dan, you really don’t.”

“Sebastian. Everyone agrees I’m a master matchmaker. And besides, a little challenge wouldn’t hurt, would it?”

“Oh, it would hurt a lot. You have no idea. Guys, I don’t need a matchmaker. He’s not into guys, he’s not into me, it’s a very simple thing to understand. Now can we please watch lord of the rings?”

As Daniel reached for the remote, winking at Seb in a way that said, ‘I’m going to ignore everything you just told me and get you guys together anyway’, one thought ran through his head:

He may not need a matchmaker, but yes, he definitely needed therapy.

Chapter Text

Seb was ecstatic about his first win of the season.

As soon as it was lights out and away we go, he managed to maintain second, going wheel to wheel with Nico before finally staying ahead.

Lap four, Ericsson was already out. Seb didn’t think anyone was surprised about this.

Guillame’s crackly voice sounded through his earplugs on the team radio.

“Yellow flag, safety car.”

It only stayed out for three laps. By lap seven, Seb was ready to chase Lewis for a win.

He miraculously managed to overtake him, the Brit retreating into the pits and securing him first place. At least for now.

But Seb somehow kept first for the whole race. Ferrari mechanics cling to the fence, waving and cheering as he crossed the finish line.

He had won. Seb had won. For the first time, he had crossed the line first as a Ferrari driver.

“Si Ragazzi!” He screamed so loudly into the radio he was pretty sure Maurizio was deaf by now. “Dai, Forza Ferrari!”

On the podium for a second time this season, Seb sprayed Lewis and Nico with the hard-earned champagne, his own race suit soaked with it.

This was the feeling he had missed. Seb had never gotten bored of winning back in his championship days, and now he got to experience it again.

Maybe his new career at Ferrari wouldn’t be so bad. Perhaps he would be able to make Michael proud in the car he had broke records in.

He waited at the badminton courts for Kimi as usual, who greeted him with a splash from his water bottle.

“Congrats on the win.” The Finn said as Seb shook the droplets from his hair.

“Thanks. Congratulations on fourth.”

It took him a few moments to realise that it sounded like Seb thought he couldn’t do any better.

“I mean, that’s not what I meant. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry. You worry about everything. Is that normal?”

“Yeah.” Seb admitted. “Ask Lewis. He knows I stress out about every little thing. It pisses the hell out of him.”

“You know what else pisses the hell out of me? You not being good at badminton.”

“Is that a challenge?” Seb twirled the racquet between his fingers. “Let’s see just how bad I am.”

It must’ve been a day of winning, because he beat Kimi 10-12.

“Who’s bad at badminton now, huh?” Seb teased.

“You. You’re very bad at badminton. It was beginner’s luck.”

“Oh, shut up. I’ll beat you every race weekend if I have to.”

“Okay. Then I’ll beat you in the actual race every time, and you can wallow in your misery about not being good at anyth— hey!”

Seb swung his racquet and hit him with the shuttlecock.

“Come on. That was uncalled for.” Kimi complained.

“Stop whining. Let’s go back to the paddock. I think we missed PR duties.”

“Do you think I care?”

“Kimi, I don’t think you care about anything.”

•

It was on the way back to their hotel that they saw something that changed the future of operation JensoNando forever.

Seb and Kimi were deep in discussion about which Marvel character was the best.

“Captain America.” Seb said immediately.

“What about Spider-Man?” Kimi protested. “Surely he’s the best.”

“Actually, Black Widow’s pretty cool. No, she’s in love with Hawkeye, which is a terrible life decision. I change my vote to iron man.”

“Black Widow is in love with Hawkeye? Seb, you just ruined the entire franchise for me.”

“Oops.”

They were passing by the Ferrari Motorhome when they heard voices.

Seb paused, looking around.

“Hey, Kimi, do you hear that?” He asked.

“Hear what?” The Finn frowned, flicking a glance around them.

The sound seemed to be coming from a couple of meters away. Seb inched forward, ducking behind a tree that had been planted for a splash of colour in the paddock.

Kimi crouched beside him, and Seb did his best not to notice that their shoulders were touching.

Because now was not the time to get distracted by Kimi Räikkönen.

The voice, Seb soon concluded, was that of Mark Webber had himself.

He crept slowly toward the McLaren garage, where he was positive Mark and the unidentified person were.

“Seb—“

“Shh!” The German hissed. “I’m listening.”

As soon as he was within earshot of the conversation, his blood ran cold.

“What about your other friend?” Said a young woman’s voice high pitched and dainty.

“Fernando?” Mark replied, tone careless and unbothered. “Oh, don’t worry about him.”

Seb was almost afraid to go closer for what he might see, but curiosity got the better of him.

“Wait!” Kimi whispered into the darkness, but it was too late.

As soon as Seb turned the corner, every part of him wished he’d stayed by the tree.

Mark was in the middle of kissing the woman, who looked around his age, when he saw Seb.

He was cheating on Fernando. Mark was cheating on Fernando.

When the Aussie saw him, his face morphed into horror.

“Seb, Mate, I can explain—“

“No, Mark. No explanation is necessary. I see clearly what is going on here.”

He let go of the woman, forgetting she was there as he turned fully to face Seb.

“Please, give me a chance.”

“Fernando had given you plenty of chances. I think he deserved to know about this, don’t you?”

The colour drained from Mark’s face as he took a step forward.

“No. Seb, please, no. Don’t tell Fernando. It was a mistake.”

“Yeah?” Seb said coldly as Kimi appeared at his side. “Because I think you’re fully aware of what you’re doing.”

“Seb.” Kimi grabbed his arm, and he was too angry at Mark to care that Kimi was touching him. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

He reluctantly followed him through the paddock, throwing Mark one last dirty glare.

“Well. That was unexpected.” Kimi admitted.

“Tell me about it.” Seb agreed, still feeling shocked.

He didn’t like Mark. Fuck that, he hated Mark. But he didn’t think he was low enough to cheat on Fernando.

“Should we tell him?” Kimi asked. “He won’t take it well.”

“He won’t believe us.” Seb corrected. “But yeah. We should.”

“You think?”

“Well, Nando isn’t easily convinced. And he doesn’t believe shit that I tell him.”

There was a short pause, and then Seb looked at Kimi.

“Thanks. And sorry for dragging you into this.”

“Don’t worry. Like you said, I don’t care about anything.”

But Kimi thought one unwelcome thought that circulated around the loose canon part of his brain:

Except you, Seb. Except you.

Chapter Text

“Nope. Sorry, Vettel, you’ve lost it.” Fernando didn’t even look up from his book as Seb and Kimi exchanged troubled glances.

“Fernando.” Kimi said slowly, like he was talking to a child. “Mark cheated on you.”

“No, he didn’t.” The Spaniard sounded so sure of himself, so confident in Mark, that Seb almost felt bad for him. Almost.

“We saw it with our own eyes.” Seb added. “I don’t you don’t like me, but I’m telling the truth.”

“Ask him.” Kimi said. “We’re not lying, he really did.”

“You want me to ask Mark if he cheated on me?” Fernando sniggered. “Yeah. Because he’s totally going to own up to something like that.”

“Alright, fine. But don’t say we didn’t warn you.” Seb muttered, turning away.

“I’ll ask him tonight.” Fernando snapped, not happy about it. “And then I’ll show you that Mark wouldn’t do something like that.”

“You’re not going to like the answer.” Kimi told him.

“Can you guys just piss off? I’m trying to read.” The Spaniard was rapidly losing patience.

“You finished that book last week.” Seb pointed out.

“I’m re-reading it, you dickhead!”

“Okay, okay, Jesus…”

Him and Kimi backed out of Fernando’s hotel room, walking down the hall together.

“Think we should tell Jenson?” Kimi asked.

“Yeah. He loves Nando, but I can’t say he’ll be too sad over hearing that his boyfriend cheated on him.”

“Me neither.”

Seb paused, frowning at Kimi.

“Hold up. Why are you so invested in this?”

Kimi shrugged, giving Seb one of his rare smiles.

“What can I say? I have an insatiable lust for drama, and your friends seem to be full of it.”

Seb shook his head, chuckling. He’d almost forgotten until now why he was so in love with the Finn.

“Oh, Kimi…”

“Don’t ‘Oh, Kimi’ me, I haven’t done anything!” He protested.

“Hey, guys!” Jenson turned the corner, flashing them both a bright smile.

“Jenson!” Sen grabbed his arm. “Look, you can’t tell anyone, but Mark cheated on Fernando.”

The Brit spat out the mouthful of water from his bottle that he had been drinking.

“Really?”

“Yes, but Fernando doesn’t actually believe us. So, the plan is to follow him to Mark’s house in Monaco where he’s going to ask if he cheated or not.”

“Okay. And then?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Right.”

“Well, see you in Monaco.”

Seb and Kimi continued down the hallway, the German taking out his phone to text Lewis about the incident.

Seb: Drama, Mark cheated on Nando

Lewis: NO HE FUCKING DIDNT

Lewis: THIS IS HUGE

Seb: Yeah I know so Nando is going to Mark’s place in Monaco to ask about it because he didn’t believe us

Lewis: ok ok ok and then, in Nando’s moment of weakness, Jenson will STRIKE

Seb: what the fuck, that’s a terrible idea. Nando won’t want to see Jenson.

Lewis: ok I guess you’re right

Lewis: You flying to Monaco today?

Seb: yeah

Lewis: cool beans see you there

“Okay. Well, I have to catch my flight there.” Seb said, flicking a glance at the time.

“Me too. Bye.”

They parted ways, and Seb pulled on his motorcycle helmet, ready for a week-long break from racing.

•

The sight of Monaco, his home away from home, never failed to make Seb smile.

After a 16 hour flight, all he wanted to do was sleep. He’d begun to notice that all he’d wanted to do since Michael had been sleep.

Lewis asked him multiple times what was going on, but Seb never told him.

Nobody had to know what it felt like to lose someone and not even feel worthy of mourning them.

Since the Schumacher family relocated to Mallorca, Seb swung by every race weekend to take Mick to karting or help them out.

When he was around them, he felt the need to act like he didn’t feel a thing. Corinna saw straight through it every time.

His apartment was just how he left it; in an absolute state.

Clothes were strewn around amongst pizza boxes and the remnants of fast food that he didn’t remember ordering.

Not particularly caring for clearing up, Seb trudged through the abominable mess and collapsed on his bed.

Right now, not a phone call, nor a text, not even a message from god could wake him up for at least another few thousand—

“Hey, Seb, open up, it’s me.” Kimi called from the entrance.

Within five seconds flat, Seb had spring out of bed and was bolting for the door, now more ashamed of the state his room was in.

“Kimi.” He tried to keep the excitement out of his tone.

“Sebastian.” Kimi replied smoothly, quirking his eyebrows. “Hi.”

“Hello.”

“Can I come in?”

“If you don’t mind wading through a month’s worth of clothes that I don’t have the brainpower to put away.”

“Not at all.”

“Then be my guest.”

He stepped aside and let Kimi shuffle into his apartment, taking a look around.

“Hey, this place is nice. Save for the huge mess.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Oh, don’t worry.”

“I was about to make something for lunch. You want anything?”

“Depends. Do you have alcohol?”

“Lots of it.”

“Marry me.” He mumbled as Seb threw him a can of beer. The German tried but failed to conceal the way his cheeks burned at the statement.

It took all of his willpower not to say yes, because that would be weird.

“Gross, what is this stuff?” He asked, taking a sip.

“It’s German beer.” Seb was slightly offended.

“Ever tried Finnish beer?”

Seb shook his head. People had told him to buy it, but he never bothered.

“Bah. Simpleton.”

“Hey, rude! You have diseased taste buds for thinking German beer is bad.”

“Finnish is better.”

“German.”

“Finnish.”

“German.”

“Finnish.”

“I swear to god, just say that German is better and I’ll give you vodka.”

“German beer is amazing. Best beer I’ve ever tasted.”

“Suck up.” Seb muttered, grabbing a bottle of Smirnoff. “Have it, I don’t want it.”

“Aw, thanks.”

“You know, just out of spite, I’m never going to try Finnish beer.”

“You’re missing out. You’ll regret it on your deathbed.”

“Then when I’m on my deathbed, bring me some Finnish beer, would you?”

“It’d be my honour.”

Chapter Text

Seb, Jenson, Lewis and Kimi were all crouched on the small ridge of earth that guarded Mark’s house from sight, camouflaged in the darkness.

It was about ten at night, and the house was blanketed in darkness, apart from the lonely street lamp that illuminated its outline.

Stood at the entrance, figure small and frail next to the grand exterior of the house, was Fernando Alonso, about to have the most painful conversation of his life.

He knocked twice, and Mark opened the door immediately.

Seb couldn’t hear from this distance what they were saying, but it seemed that Mark was nervously greeting him.

Instead of him inviting the Spaniard into his home like he expected, they simply talked on the doorstep.

There was a long silence, and the quiet breaths of his friends seemed deafening.

“What’s happening?” Lewis craned his neck to see, and Seb shoved him out of the way.

“Fucking move, I can’t see anything.”

“Yeah, me neither, dumbass!” Lewis snapped, giving him a light shove.

In doing so, Seb accidentally dominoed into the other two, and the rustling caused both Mark and Nando to look up.

Everyone held their breaths, and eventually, they went back to arguing.

“Well, this is taking a shitty turn.” Kimi commented as Fernando raked his hands aggressively through his hair and begun shouting.

Mark look slightly scared, which wasn’t an expression Seb had ever seen on his face before.

“Do you think we should go?” He asked.

“Nah. We need to stay.” Lewis said. “This is crucial to the plan.”

“What plan?” Jenson frowned through the darkness.

“Your mum.” Lewis said instinctively, earning several unimpressed looks from the other drivers.

Then Fernando gave up and started to walk away, ignoring Mark’s desperate calls for him to come back.

“Jenson, now’s your chance!” Lewis hissed, pointing to the sulking Spaniard who was shuffling up the street.

“And do what?” The Brit snapped.

“I don’t know! You’re his friend. Just be there for him like friends do.”

Jenson stood up slowly, and picked his way down the path toward Fernando.

“Hey, Nando.” He mumbled awkwardly.

“Jenson.” He wiped away the tears he didn’t mean to shed. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I was, uh, going to your house, but you weren’t there so I assumed you were with Mark.”

“Not anymore.” Fernando sighed. “Can I have a hug?”

Jenson blinked. Nando never asked for a hug or anything. He wasn’t a touchy-feely person.

“Yeah.” He opened his arms and the other driver rushed into them.

Jenson didn’t remember the last time he had hugged Fernando. Possibly when he won the championship in 2009.

“You okay?” It was a stupid question, but he wasn’t supposed to know that Mark and Fernando had broken up.

“Mark… cheated on me.” Hearing those words aloud made his heart stop.

His best friend had been cheated on. As much as this meant to him in terms of his feelings, he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything other than anger toward Mark and guilt for Nando.

“I’m sorry.” Was all he could say.

Suddenly, he knew what he had to do as Nando’s best friend.

God, Lewis was starting to rub off on him.

Slowly extracting himself from Nando’s arms, he marched toward Mark’s house.

“Jense, where are you going?” Fernando called after him.

Without a word, he knocked on Mark’s door. The man who opened it looked heavy with the weight of remorse and guilt.

“Hello, Mark.” He said coldly.

“Jenson.” The Aussie sighed, clearly not wanting to talk.

“I’ve come with a message on behalf of all of Fernando’s friends, myself included.”

“Yeah?” For just a second, hope sparked in his eyes.

Without a trace of regret or doubt, Jenson looked him dead in the eye, raised his fist and punched him in the face.

•

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Seb snapped as Jenson strutted up the ridge, looking far too proud of himself.

“I was thinking about how much I’d love to snap Mark’s neck.”

“That’s a bit dark.” Kimi muttered.

Somehow, despite all that had happened, he was playing Candy Crush.

“Put that away.” Seb slapped the phone out of Kimi’s hand.

“Hey! I was about to win!”

“Too bad.”

“Why don’t we all go to Seb’s apartment, seeing as he has pizza?”

“You have pizza and all you gave me was this lousy Smirnoff?” Kimi fumed.

“Oh, be quiet. Yeah, you can all come to my place. Unless you’d rather stay with Nando, Jenson?”

“He needs space. I’ll leave him be until China.”

“Okay. Let’s go.”

They all scooted half-heartedly over to Seb’s apartment, and to lighten the mood, he switched on the Nintendo.

“Mario Kart tournament, anybody?”

“Count me in.” Lewis swiped a controller off the coffee table and dropped down onto the sofa.

“Sure.” Jenson took the other one.

“Kimi?” Seb picked up a controller and tossed one to the Finn, who was sat on one of the barstools.

“Bwoah, why not?”

Lewis picked Luigi (and roped Seb into picking Mario), Jenson called dibs on Toad, and Kimi picked bowser.

“If you were a Mario kart character,” Seb said to Kimi, “I could totally see you as Bowser.”

“Thank you?”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

Thanks to his years of gaming experience, Seb managed to win every single race.

The only interesting one was the last one, in which Kimi was second and steadily gaining on him.

“I’m gonna overtake you.” He said.

“No you fucking won’t!” Seb yelled, manning the controller like a mad person trying to stay ahead.

In all of the excitement, he didn’t realise that he was practically leaning on Kimi.

He only noticed this when the game ended with Kimi in first.

“Sorry.”

“S’fine.”

“You guys want a drink?” He stood up, eager to be as far away from Kimi as possible.

“Alcoholic?” Jenson asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Maybe. Why?”

“I don’t want to be sober when the press find out I punched Mark.”

“Fair enough.” Seb gave him one of the German beers.

“Oh, don’t drink that poison.” Kimi advised. “It’ll burn your tastebuds right off.”

Jenson sipped it, shrugging.

“It’s not that bad, actually.” He said.

“Fucking how?” Kimi protested.

“Ah, I need to bounce. Good night’s sleep before the pre-race insomnia rolls around.” Lewis said, standing up.

Jenson followed him, beer in hand.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll text Nando to make sure he’s holding up. Bye.”

The door slammed, and Kimi didn’t stand up. To be honest, Seb didn’t want him to leave.

“Can I stay here?” The question took him by surprise as Seb turned around.

“What?”

“It’s a half hour walk to my apartment. Can I just stay tonight?”

“Um… definitely. Yeah. There’s a spare bedroom opposite the bathroom down the hall.”

“Thanks.”

“Also, there’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet.”

“Okay, that’s great.”

“And my bedroom is just down the hall if you need anything.”

“Cool.”

“Seriously, anything.”

“Got it.”

“Like, even if—“

“Seb!” Kimi stepped forward and placed his hands on Seb’s shoulders. “I’m fine. I am a grown man who is very capable of sleeping by himself.”

“Okay.” He looked at his feet, concentrating every ounce of his being into not blushing at the contact.

“Good night. And thanks again.”

“Night.”

It never really failed to amaze Seb how much he’d fallen for this man in the last month.

Chapter Text

The blessing of Seb’s Michael-free sleep decided to end the night Kimi came round.

Of course it did. Nothing in his life was going right at the moment.

This time, it was all the more painful, because it wasn’t just a specific memory, it was every single memory he’d ever had.

Every race win, every party, every serious conversation, every non-serious conversation.

All of it rushed back to him with the force of seven very large pickup trucks, and the next morning felt like a curse.

The throbbing in his head had returned full-force, and it hurt like fucking hell.

Unfortunately, for the master of reading and understanding emotions he was not, Kimi noticed.

Seb had been in the middle of this dream when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he sat up so fast he nearly got whiplash.

Kimi was stood awkwardly beside him, frowning.

“Seb. You good? You looked like you were having a pretty intense dream.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He blurted quickly. This only made Kimi a thousand times more suspicious.

“Okay…”

“Uh, you want breakfast?” Seb made a poor attempt at changing the subject.

“Nah, I’m gonna go back to my place. But thanks. Sorry to trouble you.”

“Not at all. It was nice having you round.”

“Well, see you in China.” The Finn grabbed the Smirnoff off the table and left, leaving Seb alone.

Last night, he’d spent most of it lying awake, thinking about how unusual it was to have someone other than Lewis round his house.

Especially Kimi. He didn’t know if his teammate hated him of genuinely liked him.

The thing about having a friend who didn’t show much emotion was that you could never tell what to they were thinking.

Seb’s phone vibrated on the bedside table next to him, and he saw Lewis was calling him.

“Hey.” The Brit said as soon as he picked up.

“Oh, hey Lewis. Everything okay?” Seb made himself some fruit loops and sat on the sofa.

“Did KimI stay at your house last night?”

“Um. Yeah.” Seb should’ve anticipated just how much Lewis would freak out.

“Really?” He could practically hear the other driver jumping to his feet and pacing around the room. “No way. Tell me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell.” Seb insisted. “He went to bed and then I went to bed.”

“And then?” Lewis appeared to be adamant that something was going on. “Did you…?”

“Lewis, I will short out the language centre of your brain if you even insinuate anything like that ever again in your whole career.”

“Just answer!”

“Sweet potatoes, no! What is wrong with you?”

“Well, excuse me for thinking that there’s something suss about you and Kimi sleeping in the same room!”

“There’s nothing suss.” Seb said calmly. “How’s Nando? Not that I care, obviously.”

“Well, he’s still pretty beat up about what happened, but Jenson stayed the night at his.”

“That’s good. Have they worked it out yet?”

“Nope.”

It was causing Seb physical pain to see the two drivers hopelessly in love.

“We must intervene.” He announced. “At this point, it’s just agonising to watch.”

“You’re right. Operation JensonNando meeting in my apartment. Let me call Kimi.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in twenty.”

Seb changed out of his pyjamas and began the short walk to Lewis’s apartment.

In doing so, he passed the houses of at least ten drivers. It’s a small world.

He was about halfway there when he saw Fernando trudging through the streets.

“Nando!” He called. The Spaniard raised his head and scowled.

“Vettel. What do you want?”

“Beats me, acutally.” Seb scratched the back of his neck. “I just want to annoy you.”

“Not in the mood.” Fernando jutted out his chin and turned away.

“Alrighty. How’s Jenson?”

“He’s fine. Why do you ask about Jenson?”

Now was the time to deploy little clues into Fernando’s brain.

“I don’t know. He seemed pretty worried about you last night.”

Fernando frowned.

“Why? I told him I was fine.”

“Well. You’ve been cheated on. And Jenson is your best friend.”

“And…?” Seb sighed. God, this man could be thick-headed sometimes.

“He really cares about you.”

“I know. Why are you telling me all of this?”

Seb couldn’t take it anymore. He really couldn’t. At this point, just seeing him so oblivious was actually painful.

So he said it, loud and clear, so that Nando would finally understand.

“For the love of god, Fernando, he’s in love with you!”

The words escaped his mouth before he thought about it, but there was no going back now.

Fernando stared at him, shocked, before narrowing his eyes.

Before he could deny it, Seb cut him off.

“Don’t you dare tell me it isn’t true. He ignored you because he caught you with Mark and knew you’d never love him back. He is so in love with you, and it’s causing me, Lewis and Kimi physical pain to watch you not know this. Holy fucking shit, Jenson loves you, and he needs to know that you love him back.”

He stopped and took a deep breath to calm himself down.

“Sorry.” Seb muttered, suddenly realising that, if anyone overheard them, Jenson’s life and career would be ruined.

“You know what?” Fernando sounded distant and lost in thought. “I gotta go.”

He pushed past Seb and thundered down the street like a war machine, not looking back.

Seb wasn’t sure if he was running out of fear or if he genuinely had to be somewhere.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he called Lewis.

“Seb?” His best friend’s crackly voice responded.

“Call off Operation JensoNando meeting.” Seb said, feeling himself smile subconsciously.

“Why?” Lewis asked.

“I think,” he paused, tearing his gaze from the empty side walk, “I think mission accomplished.”

•

Fernando bolted straight for Jenson’s house like he was being chased by Michael Myers.

“Jense!” He practically into the intercom.

“Nando?” Jenson replied, sounding confused and worried, but a lot better than he did a week ago.

“Get your ass down here!”

“You mad at me?” Jenson asked, and Fernando could hear him frowning.

“No, no, not at all. I just… really need to talk to you.”

“Okay…”

The intercom shut off and Jenson appeared moments later.

“Hey, Nando.”

And for the first time ever, Fernando saw Jenson as something other than his best friend.

It was terrifying, the realisation of what he felt, but he didn’t dare conceal it or lie about it.

Unless Seb was messing with him and this was about to be the cruelest prank in all of humanity, Jenson felt the same.

“Jense.” He said breathlessly, swallowing his nerves. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Yeah?” Jenson chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. “Is it that Real Madrid actually scored a goal? Because I’m shocked. Really, if you had as good taste in football teams as you did in teammates, then you wouldn’t even—“

Fernando couldn’t listen to him rambling anymore, so he kissed him.

He didn’t even realise he was going it; it seemed he was only partially in control of his actions.

But he didn’t regret it, not one bit. It felt strange and surreal.

When he pulled away, Jenson was staring at him, shocked.

“Um, wow. That was what you wanted to tell me, huh?” He laughed slightly.

“Did… did I do something wrong?” Fernando paused. Yes, this was it. Seb had taken it too far this time.

Fernando would get his bloody revenge. Now his friendship with the person he loved was ruined.

But then Jenson kissed him back, and every part of him felt completely and utterly on fire.

“Take that as your answer.” Jenson grinned and intertwined their fingers.

“Wow. Am I dreaming?” Fernando rubbed his temples, dishevelling his dark hair.

“No.” Jenson caressed the back of his hand with his thumb. “I can assure you, Fernando. This is very much real.”

Chapter Text

Seb didn’t know why he had agreed to another one of Daniel’s godforsaken movie nights.

This time, they weren’t even watching Lord of the Rings. It was the fucking Lego Movie.

He was sat on the sofa between Lewis and Checo with a mimosa to drown his sorrows.

“Can’t we watch something slightly more… age appropriate for a bunch of 30-year-olds?” He protested.

“Rude.” Daniel grumbled. “I’m twenty six.”

“I promise you.” Lewis nudged him. “You will love the Lego movie.”

“Well, Lewis.” Seb scowled icily. “I’m sure your aware of my traumatic experiences with Lego.”

“Traumatic?” Lewis sniggered. “I’m sure you’re just still not over when you stepped on Lego that Elias left lying around a couple of years ago.”

“Who’s Elias?” Checo sipped his Manhattan.

“Seb’s nephew.” Lewis replied.

“Aw, Seb, I didn’t know you had a nephew.” Daniel grinned at him.

“There are many things you don’t know about me.” Seb muttered darkly.

There was a knock at the door, and Daniel opened it to reveal a smiling Fernando and Jenson.

“Hi.” Fernando made direct eye contact with Seb, and just for a second, it wasn’t dripping with venom.

It was almost… grateful? Seb gagged at the thought.

“We have news.” Jenson seemed unable to contain his excitement.

“Um.” Fernando blushed a deep red and looked as Jenson, then at the expectant people staring at him. “We’re, uh…”

He gestured to their hands, which were firmly intertwined.

Seb fist pumped, feeling rather proud of himself. Maybe he should give up his role as F1 driver and become a professional matchmaker.

“Did you do the dirty?” Lewis wiggled his eyebrows, earning a smack on the shoulder from Checo.

“No.” Jenson tried but failed to look collected. “Okay, maybe. None of your business. Actually, while we’re on the subject, what’s the deal with you and Nico?”

Lewis shrugged, but Seb saw the way he blushed.

“I dunno. I think it’s unsafe for us to be in a relationship when we’re competing so heavily.”

“So you admit to liking him?” Fernando teased.

“Yeah. I mean, it’s Nico. Who doesn’t like him?” Everyone raised their hands.

“Okay, he can be a little competitive. But he’s one of my closest friends, definitely my oldest friend and I won’t date him just to have him break my heart into a million pieces when the championship is up for grabs.”

“Fair enough.” Checo stood up and started on a couple of Manhattans for the two joining them.

“Hey, you guys!” Danny flashed a grin. “You know what this means?”

Seb frowned. This was never normally good news when someone like Daniel was this excited.

“It means that we have to do Operation JensoNando, but for Seb and Kimi!”

“What? No!” Seb protested.

“Kebastain?” Daniel frowned. “No, that doesn’t sound right… Simi, I wonder? Yes, Simi.”

He jumped onto the coffee table and addressed the people in the room.

“Friends, I announce the end of the JensoNando era and the dawn of the Simi era!”

“Fuck off.” Seb muttered, but he was grinning. “I don’t need your help.”

“Oh, yes you do!”

“Please. Guys. I’m serious about this.”

“Seb, if we managed to get Fernando and Jenson together, god knows you and Kimi will be less than a challenge.”

“I won’t let you practice your matchmaking skills on me and him.”

“Fine, have it your way.”

They switched on the Lego movie and Seb did his best to concentrate, but all the weird little men with block arms kept distracting him.

“I don’t get it.” He complained.

“That’s because you’re old.” Daniel replied.

“Shut up.”

“The guy in the orange jacket is Emmet and everyone thinks he’s some supreme being, which he’s not, but he has to pretend like he is.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Seb still didn’t understand all the characters, and the plot seemed pretty pointless, but that might’ve just been the mimosa messing with his head.

When the credits rolled, he stood up and washed his glass, heading for the door.

“Thanks Danny.”

“Anytime.”

When he got back to his apartment, Seb made some pasta pesto and had a shower, before grabbing his guitar.

He didn’t know when he first started playing, but he’d stopped lessons when he got into formula three, and kept practicing.

Seb had minimal singing talent as well, but he didn’t really bother doing much with that.

“I’m bored, can I have some more Smirnoff?” Seb laughed to himself when he heard Kimi outside his door.

“No, get some Smirnoff from Valterri.” He said, going back to tuning his guitar.

“Valterri drank all the Smirnoff!” Kimi complained, like an exasperated child begging their parent to play with them.

“Okay.” Seb opened up the door and saw Kimi in Ferrari merch, a rare grin on his face.

“Hello.” Kimi stepped inside and cast a glance at the guitar. “Hey, I didn’t know you played guitar!”

“Yeah.” Seb blushed and looked away.

“What grade?”

“Uh, grade eight. But I had to quit a while back because of the travelling.”

“Oh, I remember you doing that piss-poor rendition of Smoke On The Water in, like, 2011.”

“About that…” Seb flushed slightly.

“Hey, can we do some more art? For the first time in 35 years I have nothing to do.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Seb pulled out his sketchbook, sitting on the sofa and flicking to a blank page.

“Okay. I’m gonna draw a portrait of you.”

Kimi sat opposite him in one of the chairs and leaned back slightly.

“Do your worst.”

After about half an hour of Kimi staring into space, checking his watch every couple of minutes, Seb was finally done.

And he had a feeling Kimi was going to like it.

“Here.” He passed over the sketchbook and watched Kimi’s expression turn to shock.

“Not bad, Vettel. Not bad. What about the guitar?”

“Uh, no.” Seb smiled sheepishly. “I’m just worried you’ll think I’m shit.”

“Sebastian.” Kimi leaned forward. “Have you ever heard me play the guitar?”

“No?” Seb frowned.

“Exactly.”

“Not sure I understand what you’re saying.”

“I’m saying that I have no musical talent or experience whatsoever, so you could play me the worst thing you’ve ever even thought about, and I’d still find it brilliant.”

“Okay…” after a momentary debate, he picked up his guitar and played the first thing that came to mind.

Noah Kahan was a modern singer that Lewis introduced him to, and he had some serious guitar skills.

So Seb learned one of his songs, Stick Season. Over time, it became one of his favourites.

He didn’t dare sing, even though the lyrics added to the experience.

When he was done, Seb set down the guitar and looked at Kimi.

“There. I played the guitar.”

“That was… actually kind of nice.”

“Thank you.”

Kimi stood up and brushed the dust off his jeans.

“Well. I’m leaving.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“But thanks.” He added, before leaving.

“For what?”

“I don’t know.” Kimi flashed him a smile, and the world felt right again.

Chapter Text

China Free Practice for Seb could only be described with his least favourite word in the English dictionary: mediocre.

FP1, he was third, FP2, fourth, and FP3, third again.

Just shy of a result he was proud of. A little way off the world champion he used to be.

It was bothering him all afternoon and Lewis could tell.

After press conferences, they had a beer in Seb’s hotel room, and he barely uttered a word.

The only downside to being so close to someone for so long was that they always knew.

“Okay. Out with it. What’s on your mind?”

Seb didn’t waste any time. Lying to Lewis was as pointless as giving a bicycle to a fish.

“At Ferrari I’m always doing so mid.” He complained.

“Well. You know it’s a shit team that Michael basically sugarcoated with his skills and managed to trick an entire generation into supporting.”

“Lewis, you’re not helping!” Seb snapped, rubbing his hair anxiously.

“Okay, okay. Well, we can clearly see it’s a car issue. You’re a world champion and that will never change.”

Seb calmed down a little, sighing and throwing himself dramatically at a pile of cushions.

“Lewis, it’s not fair. You’re winning everything.”

He frowned at the German.

“Wait, is this an issue with the fact that I’m winning right now? Is that it?”

Seb didn’t reply, because he didn’t want to make this worse.

“So you’re pissed that me and Nico are doing better than you?” Lewis said bitterly.

“Maybe a little.” Seb grumbled.

“Mate, c’mon, grow up a little.” Lewis told him angrily.

“Alright, Jesus Christ.”

They sat in silence for a little bit before Seb turned to him, looking at his feet.

“Sorry. That was a dickhead thing to say. I’m just pissed off about what happened to Michael. I sort of… abandoned the Schumachers. I keep thinking about how I should’ve been there for them…”

Lewis’s cold features softened a little bit, and he sat back, feet on the sofa.

“I’m sorry for getting so worked up. And that reminds me, I wanted to ask about you and Kimi.”

“No, you and Daniel are not allowed to ensue with Operation Simi.”

“I know. But still, tell me everything.”

“Lewis, for the last time, there’s nothing to tell. Kimi is Kimi. He doesn’t say much.”

“If you say so.” But the Brit looked far from convinced.

•

“I don’t know what to do! I’m having a crisis, Valterri!” Kimi paced around the room, whilst his friend remained unbothered.

Antonio was playing something on his phone, long dark hair tied back, decked out in his team merch.

“Okay, first tell me what’s wrong.” Valterri said, shifting to look at Kimi in the eyes.

“I can’t say it.” The Finn dropped onto the sofa and chewed his thumbnail anxiously.

“Look, you know neither of us care what it is. Right, Tonio?”

“Right.” Antonio replied, not looking up from his game.

“Okay. You know I’m not the best with words, but whenever I’m with Seb… I feel things.”

“Damn Kimi.” Valterri inspected his fingernails, not looking surprised at all. “You’re a fucking poet.”

“I don’t know what it is I feel. But it’s weird and I like it.”

“So you have a crush on him.” Valterri said it with such nonchalance that Kimi couldn’t help but blush a Scarlett red.

“No, Val. I don’t have a crush on him. I’m straight and you know that.”

“Kimi.” Valterri looked up, eyes full of seriousness. “This is the F1 grid. Nobody is straight.”

“Paskapuhe.” He muttered, whipping off his cap to stressedly rub his blonde hair.

“Alright, don’t panic.” Valterri slid off the sofa and grabbed a beer from the kitchen. “Drown your sorrows, my friend.”

“Now is not a time for alcohol.” Kimi snapped, pacing once again.

“I thought I’d be dead before I’d hear you say that.” Valterri muttered, cracking open his own beer and sipping it.

“You know what? I’ll play badminton.” Kimi took out his phone and texted Seb.

Kimi: Emergency stress badminton match. Courts in 20??

Seb: Sure. What’s the emergency?

Kimi: Life.

Seb: Relatable honestly.

“I’m going now. Tonio, pass me my racquet, would you?”

“But I’m playing Temple Run!”

“Tonio!”

At the sound of Kimi raising his voice even a singular decibel above a low murmur got anyone to listen instantly.

“Yeesh.” Antonio passed him the badminton racquet that was laying on the coffee table.

“Alright, bye everyone.”

Kimi never said goodbye to anyone. That was how Valterri knew he was in love with Seb; just texting raised his mood.

Pulling out his phone, he texted Daniel.

Valterri: Hey, Dan. Mind if I help out with operation Simi?

•

The sight of Kimi strolling onto the badminton courts, racquet in hand, made Seb smile uncontrollably.

“Afternoon, Iceman.”

“Greetings, Douchemeister.”

“Hey, only Fernando is permitted to call me that.” He scolded as they both sat on the parapet that surrounded the courts.

Kimi propped his racquet against the wall, and Seb did the same.

They both sat in comfortable silence. Kimi loved silence and thrived off people’s quiet side.

Seb, however, couldn’t stand the tension.

“So. You said there was an emergency.” He tried to make small talk.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“And what?”

Seb rolled his eyes. This man could be dim at times.

“What’s the emergency?”

“Oh. Yeah, I just wanted to see you.” He didn’t say it with a trace of emotion, and yet Seb’s whole face lit up.

Kimi wanted to see him. Kimi liked him. He was considered a person that Kimi actually wanted to spend time with of his own accord.

“Thanks.”

“You seemed pretty pissed off in today’s free practice.” Kimi commented.

“Yeah. Just annoyed. I’m not doing as well as I used to. Not really sure what I expected, though. It’s Ferrari.”

In Lewis’s words, ‘a shit team that Michael sugarcoated with his skills.’

Michael. That was it. The one name that every branch of his life seemed to trace back to.

Seb needed to stop obsessing over his decision to completely ignore what happened and just deny he was in any pain at all.

If he was to completely heal from everything that happened, he felt the need to cut himself off from everything and everyone that reminded him of Michael.

“Seb?” Kimi lay back on the parapet so that Seb could see the soles of his expensive sneakers.

“Mhm?” He replied, pretending to keep his cool when really he was hanging off the Finn’s every word.

“Tell me what’s really going on.”

Kimi sat up and squinted through the sunlight at Seb, twirling his badminton racquet.

“Nothing’s going on, I’m fine.” Seb tried to sound convincing, but his voice went high pitched as it did when he was lying.

“Really?” Kimi cracked a smile, and it made Seb feel like he was floating. Kimi smiling at him was the best thing in the world.

“Okay, there’s something I’m stressing over, but I won’t tell you.”

“C’mon. I won’t tell anyone.”

“But you’ll think I’m crazy.” Seb blurted, immediately wishing he hadn’t.

“I’d never think you’re crazy. Not even if you told me you were Ayrton Senna reincarnated.”

“Well.” Seb grinned. “I am unusually good in the wet. I have amazing hair and everyone loves me and I have a catchy name. It’s not really a far fetched concept, is it?”

Kimi snorted and went back to fiddling with his racquet.

“You know what you remind me of, Kimi?” Seb said, enjoying his task of annoying the Iceman. “A cactus.”

“Fucking how?”

“Well, you feel the need to act tough, with all these prickly spines so no one gets close to you. But on the inside, you’re just a cute little plant that needs a lot of love and— ow!”

Kimi smacked him upside the head with his racquet.

“What was that for?”

“For talking about soppy stuff! You know I don’t do feelings.”

“I’m right, thought, aren’t I?”

“I think my brain just committed suicide.” Kimi groaned.

Seb chuckled. And people wondered why he was so in love with this man.

Chapter Text

Quali was the same as FP, to Seb’s immense disappointment.

Third. Again. After Malaysia, he always felt like someone who deserved third place.

He tried his best to put on a fake smile for press conferences, but when he caught up with Kimi, the Finn saw straight through everything.

Seb wasn’t in the mood to talk, but he’d probably risk life and limb to have a conversation with Kimi.

Was this how it felt to be in love?

Everyday, he fell a little more for him, and now it was becoming next to impossible to hide his feelings.

But he had an idea.

“No.”

That was Kimi’s answer as he sauntered through the paddock with Seb.

“Please?” The German begged, rushing after him. “I promise it will be fun.”

“Fun?” Kimi whipped round and glared at Seb with such venom that it made him nervous. “Fun? You think movie night with Daniel is fun?”

“Well, yeah. It’s very fun. Except when Danny gets really drunk and insists on watching The Blair Witch Project just to scare shitless half of the grid.”

Kimi looked very close to grabbing the microphone that Crofty was talking into and knocking Seb out with it.

“How about no?”

“C’mon, I need a relatively sane person to help me through these trying times.”

Kimi gave him a pointed look and he stared at his feet so hard he could still see its outline when he looked away.

“Okay. Maybe you’re not that sane, I take it back.”

“Give me one good reason why I should come to Daniel’s movie night.” Kimi said.

Seb swallowed nervously, thinking of anything that Kimi liked.

“There is free booze?” He tried, earning a short huff from Kimi.

“Fine. But it had better be good booze, like Sahti or Grey Goose. Not some trashy bullshit like Absolut.”

“Take that back, Absolut is great!”

The look Kimi gave him made him blush meekly and add,

“Yep. Grey Goose it is.”

•

“Sebastian, why?” Kimi complained as they headed for Daniel’s hotel room.

“Give it a chance.”

“Can’t we just go to yours? Because I don’t feel like socialising. I feel like crawling into a hole and dying.”

“Don’t we all?” Seb muttered.

As he raised his fist to knock on the door, Kimi grabbed his wrist.

Seb was only half listening to what he said next, because wow, for someone with such a prickly personality, Kimi had very nice hands.

If he could slap himself without Kimi noticing, in that moment in time, Seb would’ve knocked himself out.

He couldn’t be thinking things like that. Not in a sport such as Formula One.

“If it sucks, I’m out.” Kimi warned.

“Fair enough, I guess.” Seb knocked, and Danny opened the door, grinning.

“Hey, Seb! And… Kimi?” His face morphed into confusion.

“Bwoah, Seb made me do it.” Kimi grumbled.

“I’m betting a decade’s salary that you’re in it for the booze.”

“You just got two hundred million dollars richer.” Kimi brushed past him and dropped onto the sofa.

Seb didn’t know if he could handle sitting in such close proximity to him for two hours, but he was willing to take a chance.

“Here, have a mimosa. They’re really good.”

“Thanks.”

As he sat down, their legs brushed, and even though Kimi didn’t notice, Seb’s entire brain was in the process of exploding and then dying of sheer terror.

If he had to sit like a brick wall the whole evening, then so be it.

Danny grabbed the remote and dropped down beside Seb, grinning like the maniac that he was.

“Okay. I’m thinking horror.”

Honestly, that was fine with Seb, because nothing was scarier than what he was experiencing right now.

“Ooh. I’m low key thinking about the Exorcist.”

“Classic.” Checo agreed.

“Beware.” Jenson warned the others. “After watching The Exorcist, you will never walk into a dark room again.”

“I already don’t walk into dark rooms.” Lewis said. “It’s just a shitty idea. Like, what if Nando’s in there?”

“Bitch.” Nando muttered.

“Okay, then, the exorcist it is.” Daniel switched it on and sat back.

Seb’s eyelids felt heavy from the lack of sleep he’d gotten after the nightmares.

After qualifying, he didn’t get the time to sleep because it had been more hectic than usual.

The sleep deprivation added with the schedule of a race car driver made Seb feel on the verge of collapse.

Maybe he’d just rest his eyes until the movie was over and then wake up.

Settling back, he tried to close his eyes, but every time he began to nod off, his head tilted to the side, dangerously close to Kimi.

And that wasn’t a risk he wanted to take. After five minutes of forcing himself to stay awake, he knew he couldn’t take it anymore.

Shutting his eyes, he already felt the noise around him begin to dim as his head tilted to the left.

He could feel Kimi turning to look at him, and for a brief moment, he was terrified that he would be brushed off.

But when the Finn did nothing, just turned back to look at the film, Seb almost smiled.

It felt strange and Seb wanted to move, but Kimi had such weirdly comfortable shoulders that his head wouldn’t let him.

He was already half asleep, there was no chance of moving now. He just had to hope he didn’t do anything wrong.

•

It hadn’t totally occurred to Seb that he was practically sleeping on Kimi until he woke up an hour and a half later, feeling refreshed and well-rested for the first time in a month.

When he opened his eyes, he wondered why the cushion was so comfortable, when he remembered it wasn’t a cushion at all.

Oh shit.

“Sorry.” Seb got up so fast his head spun, but he didn’t care. “You know what? I should go. Bye. Sorry again.”

“Seb, wait—“

He bolted out of the door and back to his hotel room so fast that he was out of breath by the time he was there.

Seb probably would’ve run slower if he was being chased by a serial killer.

After what happened to Michael and Seb being too scared about loosing his friend to be there for Corinna, Mick and Gina had somehow ruined his life.

Karma’s a bitch, he thought, grabbing the strongest alcohol he could from the fridge and chugging half of it.

“Yo, Seb. Open up. It’s Lewis.”

Seb opened the door, leaning against the doorframe as the alcohol started to take it’s toll.

“Woah. You drunk?” Lewis stepped inside and helped Seb over to the kitchen counter.

“Minorly.” He slurred, feeling a little nauseous.

Lewis saw the half empty bottle of liquor on the table and sighed.

“Kimi knows you didn’t mean it. Don’t worry about it. You weren’t exactly clinging to him. He gets that you were sleeping and then you sort of… fell on him.”

“Don’t use that term.”

“What, sleeping?”

“No, I didn’t fall on him! I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Seb didn’t know how much liquor he’d had on top of the mimosa, but he was going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning.

•

As predicted, he could hardly move the next day without his head feeling like someone had shoved a sledgehammer into it.

Getting ready to head to the track felt like the worst thing ever.

By the time he’d managed to drag himself to the paddock and located his friends, the hangover had died down a bit.

“Yeesh, you look like shit.” Fernando commented. “How much did you drink?”

Seb shrugged, the simple motion jarring his muscles and making him wince.

“A mimosa and a bottle of liquor. Don’t tell Antti. He might well decapitate me.”

“With good fucking reason.” Jenson stared him down. “I think he’ll be able to tell without us. They should put your picture under the Oxford English Dictionary definition of hungover.”

“That really helps.” Seb winced again and sat down on the stone steps of the Ferrari garage.

“Kimi’s an alcoholic. As him for a hangover cure.” Nando suggested.

Kimi.

From across the paddock, Seb locked eyes with the one person he really didn’t want to face.

Last night was a terrible decision, and he wished he could undo it.

Kimi muttered something to Valterri and began to walk over.

Oh god, he thought, just kill me now.

Chapter Text

By some stroke of incredible luck, Seb managed to avoid Kimi for the whole of Bahrain race week.

Every time the Finn looked remotely close to walking over and starting conversation, he’d bolt instantly.

Mostly because he couldn’t really handle the thought of pretending like absolutely nothing happened.

“You’re gonna have to talk to him eventually.” Lewis pointed out as Seb made his fourth breakaway from conversation to escape Kimi’s line of sight.

“But why?” He complained.

“Because he’s your teammate, your colleague, and your friend.”

“Not anymore.” Seb muttered, fiddling with his fireproofs. “I just wanna get Free Practice over with.”

“Seb!” Kimi called from across the paddock, Antonio and Valterri trailing after him.”

“Fuck.” Seb moved past Lewis toward the Ferrari motorhome (which wasn’t a very effective hiding place because Kimi could go in there too), but he caught his arm.

“No, Seb, wait.”

“Lewis…” Seb started to panic as Kimi approached, swallowing thickly as the Finn gave him a small smile.

“Oh, hey Kimi.” Lewis grinned and lightly shoved Seb forward.

He tried not to look as scared as he felt. His one chance to fix his friendship with Kimi had been shattered.

“Seb.” Kimi said, rubbing the back of his neck. “And Lewis.” He added, nodding at the Brit. “Can I talk to you?”

Here, Seb was trapped. He couldn’t keep running, but he didn’t want to talk.

“Free practice.” He managed, pointing weakly at the clock on the wall.

“Oh. Yeah.” The look of disappointment on his face made Seb feel guilty, but he wasn’t ready.

“Bye.” He walked away abruptly, feeling Kimi’s eyes burn into the back of his head.

Once he was as far away as humanly possible from his teammate, he began to stressedly rake his hands through his hair.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” he muttered, pacing back and forth.

Lewis was right. He really needed to talk to Kimi. But he couldn’t, for some reason, summon the courage.

“What’s the occasion?” Seb’s head snapped up to see Nando leaning against a wall, glancing at his phone.

“Nando, why are you here?”

“Uh, because I work here. Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m also a driver.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Well, I’m waiting for Jenson, but he’s probably got distracted again. You?”

“Hiding from Kimi.”

Fernando raised his eyebrows, looking up from his phone.

“Seb, it’s been a week. You need to talk to him. You know he doesn’t mind. Just tell him it was an accident.”

“Not that easy.” Seb mumbled.

“Shoo, shoo! Free practice his now!”

Thankful for an escape from his painfully complicated life, Seb went back to the Ferrari motorhome for FP.

•

Seb was momentarily able to forget about the conundrum with Kimi for about an hour after he was second fastest in FP2 and 3.

It wasn’t his best result. Heck, Seb two years ago would’ve been angry over second.

A lot had changed during the transition from Redbull to Ferrari.

He was actually feeling proud of himself as he ambled across the paddock over to Lewis (who came fastest every time) until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Kimi fucking Räikkönen.

“Seb.”

There were a number of things Seb could’ve done, but he chose only one of them.

“Yeah?” He managed, turning around and feeling panic wash over him when he saw Kimi.

“We need to talk.”

No we don’t, Seb thought, lost for words as Kimi lead him over to a quiet area between the McLaren and Alpha Tauri motorhomes.

“Why have you been ignoring me.” Kimi began, leaning backward against the wall.

“I’ve not been ignoring you.” It was such a lie that Seb nearly laughed. Nearly. “I’ve just been busy.”

“Every time I walk up to you, you basically sprint in the other direction.”

“Like I said! Busy!”

“Sebastian.” Hearing Kimi say his full name made Seb stop thinking entirely.

For a second, all he could see was the iceman staring back at him, pleading for an answer.

“I just felt embarrassed about what happened at Daniel’s.” Seb admitted, looking at his feet.

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t mean to do it, I just felt tired! You want to know why? Because every time I close my eyes, all of my dreams revolve around Michael. And do you want to know what happened when I found out about what happened to Michael? I ran. I tried to hide from it. And it’s making me guilty. Everything I do, there is a voice in the back of my head telling me that it’s all my fault. I’m sorry.”

Kimi seemed as surprised as Seb was. He hadn’t meant to rant that much. But he needed to talk and it felt good.

Even if he had to deal with the consequences of Kimi thinking he was a borderline weirdo.

“Don’t be sorry.” Kimi said after a while, taking off his sunglasses and clipping them to his shirt.

“I can’t not be sorry, Kimi, you know that.”

Kimi chuckled softly, and it became Seb’s new favourite sound, because it felt so wholesome and beautiful.

“I know that. I just wanted you to stop ignoring me. You of all people should know that I’ll sleep anywhere as well.”

Seb felt as though a weight had been lifted from his chest by talking to Kimi.

“Like I said, I’m sorry.”

“You know what?” Kimi stepped forward and clapped a hand on Seb’s shoulder. “I think we should put a ban on the S word.”

“What? Sorry?”

“Seb!”

“Oh, so you don’t like me saying sorry? Sorry about that.”

Kimi gently cuffed his shoulder, smiling, and even though he did it more regularly, it always made Seb feel like he was the only person on this earth.

“I got you a present.” He dug around in his back pocket and pulled out a can.

“What is this?”

“Something to help you settle the beer debate.”

Seb read the writing on the front. Tuplapukkie Finnish Beer.

“You little shit.” Seb laughed, but he grinned at Kimi. “Thank you, though.”

“Consider it your birthday present from me.”

“You know my birthday is two months away.”

Kimi shrugged.

“Gives me an excuse to get you more.”

Seb needed to do something about his feelings urgently, or he feared he would spontaneously combust.

He looked up again, but from somewhere in the distance, swarmed by reporters, he saw someone else.

That someone else was sauntering around in a jet black suit, blonde hair gelled back, eyes scanning the paddock for Seb himself.

And suddenly the intense urge to hide away became ten times as strong as around Kimi.

“Shit.” Was all he said as the person headed in their direction.

“What?” Kimi followed his gaze, oblivious. “What is it?”

“Hide me.” He shrank back behind Kimi, trying his best to blend in with the wall.

Why did he have to join a team with such vibrant merch?

“Damn you being so short, Kimi!” He hissed as the person caught his eye and began to make his way over.

Averting his gaze, Seb pretended not to notice.

“Sebastian?” The person stood with their arms folded, staring at him, and Seb knew he could hide no longer.

He turned around, facing the person like a child caught by their parent stealing sweets from the kitchen.

Fucking busted.

Chapter Text

“Seb, who’s this?” Kimi stage whispered as the person stood expectantly.

“Um, I don’t know.” Seb lied, looking away, pretending to be fascinated by the wall.

“Seb. Stop acting like a child.” The person scolded, but his features weren’t angry.

Kimi had known this person for all but five seconds, and he already hated him for the way he spoke to Seb.

“Don’t talk to him like that!” Kimi retaliated.

Considering half the grid was terrified of him, this man seemed totally unbothered.

It didn’t help that he was also towering at six foot, whilst Kimi was hardly five seven.

“Who are you?” He said in an obnoxiously snooty accent.

He was good-looking, for the complete douche he seemed to be, with a lean build and sharp features.

“I’m his teammate.” Kimi told him, folding his arms to look more serious. “And you are?”

“I’m Theo.” He replied, but he was looking past the Finn at the awfully quiet Seb. “And I’m here to talk to this one.”

“‘This one’ has a name.” Seb spat. “But you don’t even get to say it on that slimy tongue of yours.”

The man chuckled, and that only seemed to make Seb even more irrationally angry.

“Still got the sass, I see.”

Seb turned away, determined to make this man feel like shit. He wasn’t succeeding.

“That’s only because you haven’t even bothered to see me since 2010.”

“I said I was sorry.” Theo protested. “Give me another chance?”

“I was foolish to give you one.” Seb said, and the sheer fury dripping from his every word terrified Kimi to an extent he’d never felt before.

“So… I’ll take it as my cue to leave?” He said, heading slowly for the Ferrari motorhome.

“No.” Seb grabbed his hand, but even when Kimi stopped, he didn’t let go. “Please stay.”

“Okay…?” Kimi wasn’t complaining, but he wanted to know what was going on. “Then at least tell me what’s happening?”

“Look, it doesn’t matter. Theo, you need to leave. You shouldn’t even be here.”

“I just want to talk.”

“And I don’t!”

Turning to Kimi, Seb took a deep breath to calm himself.

“Kimi, you go do press duties. I’ll stay.”

As awkward as it was to be there in that moment in time, Kimi didn’t want to leave Seb, but he did anyway.

•

He couldn’t stop thinking about Seb and Theo, but thankfully he was a man of few words, so the press excused his half-assed answers.

Kimi wanted to tell Valterri, but judging by Seb’s reaction to Theo’s presence, he didn’t want it to become the new grid gossip.

So he trudged down the halls of the hotel room, bored out of his mind but knowing his friends would be busy and Seb would be with Theo.

But screw Theo. Kimi wanted to talk to Seb and that dickhead didn’t deserve to, so he turned and changed course for the German’s hotel room.

As soon as he reached Seb’s door, he raised his fist to knock, but hearing angry voices inside, curiousity got the better of him.

Pressing his ear to the smooth wood, the muffled sound wasn’t any clearer, but he noticed the door was open just a crack.

Opening it a little further, Kimi glimpsed Seb shouting something at Theo.

“You just ignore me all these years, you don’t even speak to me, and then you show up begging my forgiveness? Do you hear yourself, Theo?”

Kimi had never heard Seb sound so angry before and it scared him.

“You know why I’m angry!” Theo shot back. “How could you betray me like that? You’re lucky I still gave you a chance.”

“Betrayed you? I’m sorry I was actually good and you weren’t!”

“Now I see why Mark always fucking hated you!” Theo started to get angrier. “F1 turned you into a spoilt brat.”

“And life turned you into a salty bitch!” Seb yelled.

“You want to know why all of your friends hate you?” Theo stepped closer to Seb and Kimi clenched his fists in an effort not to punch him right there. “Because you’re a piece of fucking shit.”

Seb gave him the kind of smile that a serial killer gave you right before they stabbed you in the head.

“Checkmate, at least I have friends.”

Theo grabbed the collar of his Ferrari shirt and slammed him against the wall, and this was the last straw for Kimi.

“Don’t speak to me like that!” Theo snapped.

Blinded by his rage, he seemed almost possessed for a moment, and he raised his fist.

Kimi bolted into the room and caught his arm in the nick of time.

Seb’s face turned to shock, as did Theo’s as they both simultaneously turned to face Kimi.

“The fuck are you doing?” He fumed, resisting the urge to punch the shit out of this guy.

“None of your business.” Theo wrenched his arm free and turned back to Seb. “I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“Out.” Seb croaked, raising a shaking hand and pointing to the door. “We’re done. Just get out.”

“What?” Theo looked on the verge of tears but Kimi didn’t feel in the least bit sympathetic. “Please, wait, just—“

“I said out!” Seb raised his voice so suddenly that Kimi flinched, and Theo buried his face in his hands before trudging out the door.

A few moments of silence followed before Kimi asked the question that had been weighing on his mind.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

Seb didn’t seem as surprised by the question as he normally would’ve been.

“Was.” He said hoarsely. “He was my boyfriend. I guess he was always a douche. I knew he wasn’t faithful, and I was going to end things sooner or later.”

He rubbed his eyes, and when Kimi saw his palms were glistening, he realised Seb was crying.

Fuck, Seb was crying and he had no idea what to do. Seb was crying and Kimi was standing here like an idiot. Seb was crying and a million thoughts were rushing through this brain.

Kimi stepped forward tentatively and hugged him. It was well known that Seb would prefer a hug than a pep talk. Physical touch was what he better perceived.

A hug was the only way Kimi thought he could actually communicate with the German right now.

“It’s all so messed up.” Seb muttered, burying his face in Kimi’s shoulder.

“And it’s over now.” Kimi never had a way with words, so it was all that came to mind when he tried to cheer up his friend.

“I’m sorry about this. I didn’t think he’d just show up mid-season.”

“I thought we put a ban on the S word?” Kimi mock-scolded, breaking away from the hug.

Seb looked like he was about to apologise, but Kimi held up a finger.

“Don’t say it.”

They both laughed, Seb wiping away the tears on his cheeks.

“Thanks, Kimi. For saving me from the wrath of a psychotic Brit.”

Kimi’s features darkened a little as he stepped back.

“I know you don’t wanna talk about him… but how did the two of you meet?”

Seb sighed.

“One night, in the celebration after I won the Karting World Championship, I met him and we were both…” he blew out a breath. “Very drunk. I was sixteen, maybe seventeen, and he was the same, and he just randomly walked up to me and started flirting.”

Seb fixed his gaze on the distance over Kimi’s shoulder.

“I don’t know. I was just excited. I didn’t know any better, I certainly didn’t know he was a toxic son of a bitch. And then when I got into F1 and he didn’t, he… stopped talking to me. He briefly resurfaced in 2010 to give me a half-assed congratulation, and then he disappeared again.”

A short pause. Kimi, for the first time, felt sympathetic toward the man who looked like he had it all.

“Did you ever really love him?”

“Yes. So much. The issue was that he never cared about me.”

Kimi wanted to hug him again but he didn’t. He just took in the information.

“Seb, I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. Like I said. I stopped holding out hope that he felt the same way when I heard some rumour that he was seeing this girl. I realised it was just a fluke because he wanted some fun and took me for a naïve little kid who wouldn’t see straight through him.”

“God, I should’ve punched him.” Kimi muttered.

“Nah. You’d probably break your fist.”

Kimi chuckled, trying to ignore the pounding in his chest. Every time he felt it, he told himself he was straight like a mantra.

“So. See you around?”

“Yeah.”

“And Seb?”

“Mhm?”

“If Theo even looks at you too long, tell me, and god knows I’ll fuck him up.”

“Thanks Kimi.”

“Anytime.”

Chapter Text

It was two hours after a good but not amazing Qualifying, Seb got a notification on his phone that ruined his whole day.

He’d learned to accept that he would no longer be at the top anymore. That at Ferrari, things were going to be different.

Seb no longer beat himself up about a bad result. Like Lewis had said, it was the car, not the driver.

Or at least that was what he told himself. The terrifying truth was what a reserved part of the internet were saying: that he was burning out.

And to be honest, Seb didn’t want to burn out not even ten years into his career.

His phone vibrated on his beside table and Seb rolled over, burying his face in the pillow.

“Shut up…” he muttered out loud, groping around for his phone only to put it on silent.

He hadn’t read the notification, so he sat up and rubbed his eyes, which weren’t prepared to read the words he saw.

13th April 2015: Take Mick to karting.

It was a calendar reminder he’d set himself at the beginning of the season for the Spanish Grand Prix, now that the Schumachers were in Mallorca.

Seb knew it would be a long bike ride to the ferry, but he owed it to Michael’s family. Fuck, this was going to be painful.

Thankfully, he still had a couple more days to mentally prepare himself for the challenges he was yet to face.

Seb hadn’t seen Mick since the hospital in 2014, partly because he believed he was the last person he wanted to see.

The other repeatedly called him, but Seb couldn’t bring himself to answer. What would he even say?

He flinched as his phone lit up with a call from Lewis.

“Lewis. Hey.” He said tiredly, putting his best friend on speakerphone so that he could lean back against his soft bed.

“Sebastian.” Lewis snapped. “Tell me why the fuck that brat is in the paddock.”

Seb sat up slightly, worried by the sense of urgency and blind fury in his tone.

“Who do you mean?”

“I’m talking about Theo, mate! Why haven’t you called security on him yet? Because if you don’t, god knows I will.”

When Seb told Lewis the story of him and Theo a few years ago, the Brit developed at intense hatred for him.

“I ended things with him. He can do what he wants.”

“Kimi told him about that little shit almost hurting you. I don’t trust him.”

“Look, Theo is a horrible person, but as long as Kimi is here, considering the fact he’s absolutely terrified of him, I doubt he’ll be laying a hand on me.”

“If you say so.” Lewis muttered, sighing through the phone as Seb took it off speakerphone and held it to his ear.

“I have to go.” He said. “I have a training session with Antti and then I have to book tickets for the ferry to Mallorca on Monday.”

“Why you goin’ to Mallorca?” The Brit asked.

“Have to take Mick to karting. Want to come with?”

“Thanks, but I’m terrified of Corinna and you know that.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause she fucking hates me.”

“Lewis, you’re overreacting. She doesn’t hate you. She… mildly dislikes you.”

“Either way, I’m staying here. You could ask Kimi, though.”

“He’s got something else to do. I’ll go alone.”

“Okay. Bye.”

Seb shuffled comfortably on the mattress, ready to finally shut his eyes and get some proper peaceful sleep.

He waited twenty minutes for something to come and disturb him, but nothing came.

Seb was left with silence and it was agonising him to the point of restlessness.

Great, his one opportunity to sleep and he wasn’t even tired.

Laying on his back, Seb stared at the ceiling and sighed loudly, turning and beating the pillow into better shape with his fists.

It felt good to get rid of some of the rage burning inside of him. His feelings for Kimi, Theo’s return and the reminder of his inevitable meet with the Schumachers on Monday was too much to handle.

Honestly, it was exhausting being an adult.

•

The Spanish Grand Prix landed him on the podium in third, but Seb honestly felt content with it.

He stood above the swarming crowds of fans, drenched in champagne, and it felt good not to be winning.

“Congrats.” He shook hands with Nico, who glanced proudly at the trophy he had won in first.

“Thanks, Seb. You too.”

It was a good race weekend. Great, even. Because it was the first one that he accepted his inability to be the person he once was.

The congratulations from others didn’t feel bittersweet or undeserved, they felt like they always did: special.

When Seb reached his hotel room, he took off his race suit but didn’t even bother with the fireproofs, collapsing on his bed with a bright smile on his face.

Today was great. Tomorrow, however, was going to be far less so.

The smile faded from his face as he rolled over and saw the notification for the Mallorca ferry.

Maybe he could make an excuse. Say he was tired, or busy, or his bike broke down, or his ferry got delayed, or anything.

But he couldn’t. Couldn’t keep putting it off and hiding away from everything.

God, why did his life have to be so complicated?

•

After a two hour bike ride and an eight hour ferry, (he had to wake up at four to get there. Four!) Seb was outside the Schumacher family home.

It was bigger than his apartment, but one thing he noticed was how sad it was. An aura of loss and sadness hung over it like a stormcloud.

Maybe Seb should turn around and go back home. This was a shit idea. What was he thinking?

He turned around, but as soon as his hand gripped the handlebars of his bike, he knew what he had to do.

Knocking twice, his heartbeat quickened as he heard German voices on the other end, and the door opened to reveal Corinna.

For the strong person Seb always saw her as, she didn’t look too good.

She looked like she’d slept even less than Seb, and like she hadn’t seen the sun in over a month.

But he knew that she was still trying for her children, and he admired her for that.

“Sebastian.” She said, sounding so relieved like he was god come to take her pain away. “How have you been?”

Corinna wrapped him in a tight hug, and Seb used every ounce of strength he ever had not to burst into tears.

“Good.” He mumbled, quickly rubbing his eyes for any tears he might’ve unknowingly shed. “You?”

“I’ve been the same.” She told him. “But you look terrible, what happened?”

“No, I’m fine.” He said quickly. But she knew he was lying.

Corinna placed both hands on his shoulders and looked him dead in the eyes.

“Seb. I know you seem to think your pain doesn’t matter just because you weren’t blood relatives with Michael, but you are family to us.”

The words stung him so badly that he just managed to hold it together as Mick came bounding through the halls.

“Uncle Seb!” He yelled, launching himself at Seb in a hug.

“Hey, Mick.” He chuckled, letting the younger latch onto him and refuse to let go.

“What happened to your hair?” He frowned, making Seb laugh. Children had no filter sometimes.

“My barber was not a Ferrari fan.” He admitted, raking a hand through it.

For the first couple of months, he thought it looked quite good, but when the fans saw, they spared him no mercy on twitter.

“Mick, don’t be rude.” Corinna scolded.

“Are you gonna take me to karting?” Mick asked excitedly.

“Yep! I even got you this!” Seb handed him a motorbike helmet that he had got off Amazon and printed his own drawing of a dragon on the side because he knew Mick loved them.

“Wow. It’s so cool!” When Mick put it on, it hung slightly over his electric blue eyes. “We’re gonna go on a motorbike!”

“Damn right we are.” Seb couldn’t help but notice how much older Mick looked. He was tall, almost taller than Seb (which wasn’t saying much because he was short) and he looked freakishly like his father, but with his mother’s blonde hair.

“C’mon, let’s go.” Seb waved at Corinna before following an ecstatic Mick to the motorbike.

“Hey, Seb!” Corinna called as he turned back to her. “Remember that you’ll always have a place here, as long as you live. You’ve done so much for this family, never forget that.”

Seb gave her a weak smile because her words filled holes in his mind that had been driving him crazy.

It was good to know that he’d always have a place amongst the Schumachers, the family that helped him so much.

•

“You were great out there!” Seb told Mick as they sat on the benches that overlooked the karting track. “You’ll make it to F1 someday.”

Mick’s face lit up, and Seb was surprised when he started to speak in German. Despite it being their first language, they mostly stuck to English.

“Ich vermisse meinen Vater, Seb. Machst du das?”

Seb paused. The question took him totally by surprise. People gave him their condolences, but they never asked how he felt.

“Ja, ich vermisse ihn.” He replied. “Und ich wünschte, ich hätte ihm etwas sagen können.”

Mick was silent, tapping the toe of his sneakers against the metal steps.

“Können wir auf dem Rückweg Bratwurst bekommen?”

Seb chuckled, ruffling his blonde hair and making him smile.

“Natürlich können wir das.”

Chapter Text

“Remember that you’ll always have a place here, as long as you live. You’ve done so much for this family, never forget that.”

The words stuck to Seb’s brain like peanut butter for weeks. Past him went Monaco, Canada, Austria and Britain, and now he was in Hungary.

Still, everyone seemed to notice his short attention span and distractedness as Free Practice came.

This time, Seb was happy to get on his motorcycle and ride to the track because he’d slowly become more accustomed to less battles.

It was so refreshing to have all the pressure off his shoulders to do so well that he hardly noticed how good it felt for Nico and Lewis to be the centre of attention.

“Douchemeister.” Fernando greeted him.

“Good morning, Nando. As ever, it’s truly fabulous to see you.”

Jenson rolled his eyes and grinned at Seb.

“Wotcher, mate. Exticed for FP? Because I am. You know I love Hungary.”

“Actually, this time, I’m properly excited because I’ve grown used to those two winning everything.”

Seb nodded to where Lewis was trying (but ultimately failing) to flirt with Nico, who was looking very confused.

“Yeah. I have a feeling the championship’s already decided.”

“There’s still time.” Fernando draped his arm around Jenson’s shoulders. “You never know. Maybe I’ll get my third.”

“Yeah, right.” Seb laughed, making Fernando glare at him.

“Dudes, I have news.” Lewis sauntered over and put one arm over Seb’s shoulder, the other over Jenson’s.

“Alright. Out with it then.”

“Me and Nico.” He nodded proudly to where the blonde was muttering something to Mark whilst trying to avoid Lewis’s eyes.

“Really? We never guessed.” Jenson did a not-so-subtle wink in Seb’s direction, making him laugh.

Lewis frowned, clearly unknowing of the bet half the grid had started years ago that he and Nico would confess eventually.

“Well. Not sure what it is that I’m not a part of, but anyway.”

“You sure it’s safe for the both of you to be simultaneously dating and competing for titles?” Seb asked.

Lewis shrugged, clearly not wanting to think about it.

“I don’t know. He’s competitive. I wouldn’t put it past him not to tear us apart over the championship. But I’m still not sure where this is going.”

“C’mon, we’re gonna be late.” Fernando made sure nobody was looking before taking Jenson’s hand.

Seb saw Kimi on his way to the Ferrari garage and crept up behind him, stealing his cap.

“Hey, give that back!” Seb tried to run but Kimi grabbed the cap from his hands.

“Sorry.”

“Bwoah, why do you apologise for everything?”

Seb shrugged, trying to fight the blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“What can I say? I’m a creature of habit.”

They walked side by side in silence, and Seb spotted Theo from across the paddock.

He had the courtesy not to disrupt him right bedfore a race, and Seb was thankful for that.

“Hasn’t been bothering you, has he?” Kimi tried to sound like he wasn’t particularly bothered, but he was.

If he hadn’t been there when he was, if he’d ignored his impulses and just gone back to his hotel room, Seb could’ve been seriously hurt.

They were friends, close friends, and if something happened to him, Kimi would blame himself.

He had a nasty habit of thinking everything was his fault and so did Seb.

“Nope. He’s kept his distance.”

“That’s good.”

Maurizio was already waiting, not impressed with their constant sloppy punctuality.

“Aye, I will set a timer!” He gestured wildly with his hands. “Ten seconds late and I will ask Antti and Mark to give you double training sessions!”

“Please don’t!” Seb begged, rubbing his eyes.

The Italian just sighed, because even he had a faint idea what was going on here.

•

Third, seventh, third. However at peace he was with Ferrari, seventh was embarrassing.

He could never be proud of that result, not even if he was in Haas or Williams.

Obviously, his days of beating himself up were long over. But he still needed to get his shit together before the race.

His number one way of clearing his head when it was spinning with the force of his thoughts was drawing, so long after the race, in the pouring rain that would be dry by the next day, he took his sketchbook to the balcony.

This time, he drew one of Michael’s old helmets, taking in every detail and tattooing them individually onto his brain.

He was actually quite proud of the end result, so he sat back with his headphones on and watched the rain fall.

It was cold but he didn’t want to go inside just yet. Right now, he needed a breath of fresh air and some time to himself.

Seb closed his eyes, but not with the intention of falling asleep, just of thinking.

Perhaps it was a smart idea to curate a playlist of songs that helped him think straight on a day like today.

His rest was interrupted by a knock on the doorframe, and Kimi staring at him with those icy blue eyes.

“Thought I’d find you here.” He said, taking a seat.

“Yeah? Well, I drew this. Thoughts?” Seb showed him the drawing.

“Really good. S’that Michael’s old helmet?”

Seb frowned. “Yeah. It is. How did you know?”

“I always loved that design.” He said, and Seb almost saw a smile on his face.

“Me too.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Kimi asked, sitting back.

His hand, which hung loosely by his side, was less than ten centimetres from Seb’s, and it took all his willpower not to reach out and touch it.

“Shoot.” Seb told him, putting away his sketchbook and turning fully to face him.

“How did it make you feel? The skiing accident?”

There were a lot of ways Seb could’ve answered this question, but he picked one.

“It made me feel like I’d lost him for good.” He admitted, hating the look of pity in Kimi’s eyes.

“You’re not allowed to see him?”

“Nobody outside of family is. I actually swung by their house way back in Spain to take Mick to karting.”

“How is he?”

“He’s the same old kid he’s always been. Holding up good. I don’t know about his sister, I haven’t seen her much.”

“And Corinna?”

Seb sighed, gazing out into the distance, hair damp from the walk here.

“I don’t know what she’s feeling inside, but she’s acting pretty valiant on the outside.”

Kimi slumped in his seat, blonde hair darkened to a light brown by the water. Seb thought it suited him. Then again, in his opinion, everything suited Kimi.

“Thanks for actually listening to me.” Seb said after a while. “I like talking to you.”

Kimi gave him one of his smiles that made Seb feel lightheaded. Who needed cocaine when you had Kimi Räikkönen to smile at you?

“I like talking to you too. It’s refreshing. You don’t walk on eggshells when you talk to me. Valterri and Tonio are the only other people on the grid that do that.”

Seb pretended to be rubbing his face so that Kimi wouldn’t see how much he was blushing.

When he got back to his hotel room, he needed to google cures for falling in love.

•

Quali went well the next day. Seb woke up energetic and decided he’d cycle normally onto the track.

After all, he knew how bad motorbikes and such could be for the environment.

As he locked up and clipped his helmet to the handlebars, he saw Kimi giving him a small wave and his heart exploded.

Making sure the Finn wasn’t waving at someone else, he tentatively waved back.

He didn’t break away from conversation with Valterri. Antonio was shuffling around awkwardly. Seb hadn’t ever spoken to him before.

The kid seemed quite reserved, but then again, that complimented Kimi and Valterri’s personalities quite nicely.

Finns were generally laid back and took a while to warm up to people. Seb had some Finnish friends back in Heppenheim.

God, he needed to do something now because his feelings were overwhelming.

After qualifying third for the millionth time, Seb was unlocking his bike when he got a notification on his phone.

Unknown number: We need to talk.

Chapter Text

Stranger Danger rule number one: never to accept creepy meet-up invites. But Seb was a little too curious not to.

He, of course, came armed with his trusty baseball bat. Even if he looked truly shady to the press, it was better safe than sorry.

When it was dark and the inhabitants of the paddock had been reduced to a few stray reporters and Carlos Sainz, he crept into the shadows like a ninja.

Maybe it was a prank from Lewis. At this point, Seb really fucking hoped so, because he was a little creeped out.

Unsheathing his baseball bat, he brandished it into the darkness like a sword.

“Hello?” He called, trying not to be too scared. What if he was being kidnapped? Oh god, he was going to be kidnapped.

Seb heard rustling behind him and turned around so fast he nearly got whiplash.

If this did turn out to be a massive prank, and his reaction was being live-streamed to twitter, god knows Sebastian would crack their skull.

“Seb, you came.” Not registering who it was, Seb swung his baseball bat in their vague direction and felt it connect with their skin.

“Ow, Jesus fuck!” Seb pulled his flashlight from his pocket and shone it on the ground, revealing Theo rolling on the floor in pain.

There was a huge bruise on his temple where Seb had hit him with a baseball bat, and as much as he hated him, he couldn’t help but feel bad.

“Uh, sorry man.” He reluctantly offered him his hand.

“No, I’m sorry… I should’ve given you some warning or told you who I was.”

“Damn right you should’ve. If I’d been a foot closer I could’ve killed you!”

In all honesty, Seb wouldn’t have minded that, but it would be at least a decade’s work for his PR assistant.

“You wanted to talk?”

“I did.”

“Then make it quick because I don’t want to be here.”

“Fair enough. Seb, I’m so sorry. I never should’ve laid a finger on you. I really hate myself for it. Please believe me. Just give me one more chance and I’ll make it up to you.”

Seb didn’t even hesitate with his answer. Theo deserved one thing from him and that was a fucking reality check.

“Oh, I believe you. But I’m not stupid enough to give you a second chance. If getting a little bit angry leads you to hurt me, I’m not safe with you and I never will be. Piss off.”

“Seb. I’m sorry.”

“I know you’re sorry, Theo, but I’ve moved on! I could do so much better than you. I could… I’d rather be with…”

He shook his head. If Theo found out, if anyone found out, it would be the end of both their careers.

“Never mind. I appreciate the apology, but I’m never getting back with you. You can leave.”

“Sebastian—“

“Leave whilst I’m still being nice.” Seb warned, his last shred of patience wearing thin.

“I—“

“He told you to leave.” They were both shocked by a deep voice behind Seb.

Kimi stood with his arms folded, glaring at Theo in a way that made most people turn and run.

“Or I’ll fuck you up.” The Finn added, and as he took a step forward, Theo took a step back, gulping nervously. “That’s what I thought. Now scram.”

Even though it wasn’t directed at him, Seb still felt Theo’s fear second hand.

As soon as he had scurried off, tail between his legs, Kimi turned to Seb, face hidden in the darkness.

“I told you to call me if he bothered you.”

“And so I came prepared.” Seb held up his baseball bat. “Besides, it’s ten. You should be asleep.”

“So should you.”

“Kimi, I had things to do!”

“What, like assault your ex at ten at night with a baseball bat in the F1 paddock?”

“Yes, exactly!” Seb looked at his feet, embarrassed. “Well, when you say it like that…”

“Go get some sleep.”

“Okay then. Thanks for saving me. I could handle it, but thanks anyway.”

“Are you a trained martial artist capable of beating someone shitless?” Kimi asked pointedly.

“Are you?”

“No, but still.”

“You know, iceman, you confuse me sometimes.”

Even though he couldn’t see clearly, Seb could’ve sworn he saw Kimi smiling.

“Good. That’s the point.”

•

Seb’s favourite sensation in the world was the sensation of winning.

And as he stood atop the podium in Hungary, holding his first place trophy, it was all-consuming.

He loved it. He loved the aura of racing and speed and everything he’d grown up loving.

On the podium with him was Daniel, looking delighted, and, as Seb found ever amusing, the other Daniil.

They exchanged handshakes and chilling champagne as Seb breathed in the air tainted with weed and coloured mist that the psychotic tifosi were spraying.

Sometimes, when he wasn’t driving a shitbox, being in Ferrari wasn’t too bad.

He caught Kimi’s eye and saw the Finn stood with his hands in his pockets, already out of his race suit, and threw him a small wave.

Kimi saw and smiled sheepishly. Seb was so caught up in studying his face that he nearly fell over when Daniel drenched him in champagne.

“Woah, Dan!”

“Sorry, Seb!” But the driver was too ecstatic to care.

When Seb looked back out at the crowd, Kimi was gone, trailing after Mark as he lead the former to the Ferrari motorhome.

After podium celebrations, Seb searched the whole paddock. He didn’t want to call himself clingy, but he definitely wanted to see Kimi.

He wasn’t in his drivers room, his hotel room, not in the motorhome and Valterri and Tonio hadn’t seen him.

Perhaps he’d disappeared off to some remote place like Seb did when he wanted an hour alone.

He took out his phone to try and text him, but as he did so, a voice behind him said,

“Boo.”

Seb flinched and dropped his phone, but he was relieved to see Kimi standing behind him.

“Jesus, don’t scare me like that!” He laughed and then added, “but don’t say the S word.”

“Congrats on the win, Seb.”

“Thank you. And thank you again for last night.”

“Oh, that’s fine. I was looking for a reason to punch the shit out of that guy. Anyway, summer break is here. Can we play badminton sometime?”

“We can play badminton every single day if you want.”

“That would be nice.”

Seb smiled and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Well. I’m going now. But thanks again. Just call if you want to play badminton because I’m always free. Except Saturday. I’m going out with Lewis on Saturday. But yeah, you get the picture.”

Kimi smiled again and Seb wanted to take a picture and keep it in his heart forever, except that would be creepy so he didn’t.

As he headed back to his hotel room, Lewis caught up with him, and as soon as Seb noticed the tears in his eyes, he stopped.

“Bro, what happened?” He asked.

“Nico fucking broke up with me.” Lewis muttered, rubbing his eyes.

“Knobcheese. Why? Did you do something?”

“No!” Lewis sounded exasperated and very tired. “I did nothing and he just said he couldn’t take being rivals with someone he loved.”

“That piece of shit.”

“I know! Why did I date him? It was a shitty idea. I regret everything.”

“Okay, that’s a bit extreme. Do you regret winning two world championships?”

“…No…”

“Right. Do you regret having me as your best friend?” Seb paused. “Actually, don’t answer that.”

Lewis chuckled and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

“Thanks, Seb.”

“That’s okay. Take care?”

“I’ll try.”

“And Lewis? Can you make a promise to me?”

“Mhm?”

“If I’m in prison within the next 24 hours after being accused of the murder of Nico Rosberg, will you become a lawyer just to argue in my defence?”

“No.”

“Aw. I love you, dude.”

“Love you too, Douchemeister.”

Chapter Text

Time flew fast, and Seb knew the year was coming to a close. The summer break was nice, he’d played badminton with Kimi quite a lot, and he’d smiled through the boring podiums of Italy and Belgium, and now he was in Singapore.

Something about street circuits was so appealing to Seb. He loved them.

For some reason, they always seemed to play in his favour, and the atmosphere compared to that of wet, rainy Spa was indescribable.

He was having a tradition pre-race chat with Jenson, Fernando and Lewis, who was already over Nico.

“Look at him, all smug, flirting with that strangely hot press reporter like nothing happened— holy shit, their hands are touching! This is robbery!”

Seb did his best to calm down the inconsolable Brit, but Lewis was furious with Nico.

Truthfully, Seb was, too. He had broken up with his best friend to protect himself.

“Look like a real asshole, too…” Jenson narrowed his eyes at him.

“God, I just wanted to tell you about all the annoying things he won’t stop doing… I made a huge mistake.”

“Maybe free practice will clear your head a bit?” Seb suggested, glancing anxiously at the clock.

“Only if I beat him.” Lewis grumbled.

Seb tried his hardest in free practice, and even though he didn’t do too well in FP1 and 2, he managed fastest in FP3.

He was proud of himself, because it meant to could prove all those idiots on the internet wrong about him burning out.

Kimi was chatting with Mark outside Ferrari when Seb passed him.

Mark threw Seb a friendly wave and Kimi nodded at him before they continued looking at some of Kimi’s data.

Valterri was talking with Daniil and Carlos, and Antonio, who was normally glued to his side, was nowhere to be seen.

Right now, he had free time. So he went for a bike ride around, taking the in the fresh air.

He’d always loved nature. Perhaps he should become one of those eco activists who went on strike and stuff.

In Italy and Belgium, Seb had chilled in third place watching Lewis and his official ex-boyfriend squabble over race wins.

Honestly, he was starting to rather enjoy sitting peacefully where no one could see him and watching from a distance as Nico and Lewis’s lives went up in flames.

It was a bit like sitting safe and sound in your home with some popcorn and watching the whole world explode around you.

Maurizio was tolerant but far from satisfied that Seb was consistently coming third.

But nothing could really be more annoying than Kimi being just shy of a podium every time.

Seb had been warned more than once by his team boss to up his game and he was trying.

The German pulled up outside his hotel and locked up his bike, heading up to his room.

He was exhausted, but he didn’t let himself fall asleep just yet.

Seb launched himself onto his bed and pulled out his phone.

Seb: Hey

Kimi: Why hello there

Kimi: Can I help you??

Seb: No I just wanted to talk to you

Kimi: You’re so sweet

Kimi: SIKE

Seb: THAT WAS UNCALLED FOR

Seb: IM BLOCKING YOUR NUMBER UNTIL YOU APOLOGISE

Kimi: How do I apologise if you block my number?

Seb: KIMI-MATTIAS RÄIKKÖNEN DO NOT ACT SMART WITH ME

Kimi: You’re crazy sometimes

Seb: take it back, I’m crazy all the time.

Kimi: you have a point.

Seb: Now leave me alone I want to sleep.

Kimi: Okay, goodnight :D

Seb wouldve usually been unable to fall asleep right after a race, but with the memory of Kimi smiling at him, he could do anything.

•

Now was not the time for one of the dreams. This was the worst fucking timing imaginable.

Thanks for nothing, universe.

Seb could feel this one clearly, when Michael had wrapped him in a hug so tight it hurt, words muffled through his helmet.

It was sometime during ROC. Seb just didn’t know when.

The feeling was so real that he almost felt like the last few months had been a dream, and this was reality.

Maybe it was just after one of the races had finished and Seb had won it. Michael was proud and the feeling was insane.

The look in the other German’s eyes that day made Seb feel light inside to present.

It was the way Michael grabbed his shoulders, loudly gasping the words that Seb couldn’t hear that hit the hardest.

Just because you’re not Michael’s blood relative doesn’t mean your pain doesn’t matter.

Seb tried to fight Corinna’s voice in his head, tried to wake himself up.

And when he sat bolt upright, drenched in sweat, head pounding, he wished he’d stayed in the dream.

Everything hurt. His muscles ached when he moved them, his skull throbbed when he rolled his neck.

It was like the world’s worst hangover that he couldn’t cure and it was horrible.

His phone dinged and the sound was like a thousand decibels shaking his brain.

Kimi: Badminton?

Seb: can’t I’m sick

Kimi: You okay?

Seb: all good

Kimi: I don’t believe you I’m coming over

Seb: No don’t

Kimi: Too late.

He sighed and rolled over, because for the first time in his career, he didn’t want to see Kimi.

Seb would probably be in too much pain to talk to him, honestly.

A knock on the door made Seb wish he’d put up more of a fight, because there was no way in hell he could stand up to answer it.

“Coming…” he called, leaning against the wall for support.

The pain in his muscles was like a cramp that never went away.

He opened the door and saw Kimi on the other end, in a black t-shirt and jeans, not looking worried but as soon as he saw Seb, he looked shocked.

“Woah, you good?”

“Nope, not really.” Seb winced and clutched the doorframe for support.

“C’mon, what happened? Did you eat something bad?”

“I haven’t eaten today.” Seb realised what a poor decision that was as soon as he said it.

“Well, go to bed and let me make you something.”

“No, I’m fine… well, no I’m not, but I’ll survive. I said you didn’t need to come round.”

“And I did, because you’re my friend and I would feel bad if you died.”

“Kimi, I have a fever, not terminal cancer.”

“Well, you didn’t specify that, so how was I supposed to know?”

Seb chuckled slightly and shook his head, rubbing his temples.

“Oh, Kimi… what am I going to do with you?”

“More like what am I going to do with you, because the press can’t see you like this.”

“I’ll be fine by tomorrow. I’m a grown-ass man and I can take care of myself.”

“I have evidence to suggest that you are anything but grown up.”

“Oh yeah?”

“You called me a frickin’ cactus, Seb. A cactus.”

Seb laughed, and the motion didn’t jarr him like he thought it would. It actually felt nice.

“How about we just get Deliveroo and watch the football?”

“That sounds a lot better, actually.”

“What do you want? Pizza?”

“Sure.”

“Important question, does pineapple belong on pizza?”

“No, Kimi, it’s a fruit.”

There was a short pause before Kimi looked up and frowned.

“Then what the fuck is tomato doing on there?”

This man, Seb thought. This man will be the death of me.

Chapter Text

Miraculously, by Quali the next day, the fever had gone away.

After Kimi had left the previous day, Seb had felt a lot better. He genuinely believed that being around the Finn was like a healing spell.

Which, if true, was an excuse to spend more time with him.

Seb hadn’t been expecting pole position, but Guillame’s voice shouting through the radio told him otherwise.

“Pole position, Seb, pole position!”

Making sure nobody was looking, Seb did an excited little fist pump. This race was going to be good.

As soon as got out of the car, he found Lewis still in his race suit and helmet, looking annoyed.

“It’s all Nico’s fault!” He Brit snapped, aggressively ripping off his balaclava.

“What happened?” Seb took off his helmet and unstrapped his race suit.

“Fifth! It’s like he brings bad luck with him wherever he goes! Sneaky little gobshite…”

“Okay, well, it could be worse. Fifth is good. And I highly doubt it’s Nico’s fault.”

Seb’s attempts at calming down an inconsolable Lewis were futile.

“Ugh, I just wanna hold him under the water until the bubbles stop and then—“

“Lewis!” Seb grabbed his arm and dragged him through the paddock, making sure no reporters heard them.

“I don’t know why I ever chose to love him in the first place. I should’ve seen this coming from a mile away.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” Seb reassured him.

He spotted Kimi from across the paddock and waved. Lewis stared at him with such intensity that it scared Seb a little.

“Why are you looking at him like that?”

“I’m not looking at Kimi… is that Valterri with him?”

“Um, yeah. They’re really good friends. Why?”

“Did realise how cute he was before…”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, is this your coping mechanism for Nico?”

Lewis didn’t bat an eyelid, and Seb had to distract him before the press got suspicious as to why the Brit was ogling Valterri.

“No, I’m serious…”

Kimi approached them and grinned at Seb. He smiled more often around the German but the feeling of happiness when he did never went away.

“Hey. Congratulations on pole.”

“Thanks.”

“And you’re feeling better?”

“Lots, yeah. Thanks, by the way. Again.”

Kimi ruffled his hair and the gesture made Seb blush such a deep red that he probably looked like a tomato.

“That’s okay. Well, I can’t play badminton today, because I have something coming up. But maybe tomorrow?”

“Great, okay. And by the way…” Seb flashed a glance at Lewis, who was trying to seduce a stony-faced Valterri. “I’m beginning to think Lewis is using your best friend as a means of getting over Nico.”

“Fuck, did they break up already? Didn’t last a full race weekend.” Kimi raised his eyebrows.

“I know. But I think everyone saw them imploding from a country mile a way. You know Nico will tear himself apart and drag others down with him when he’s being competitive.”

“Oh, I know. But Valterri? Really?”

“Don’t ask me what goes on inside Lewis’s head. It’s a mess up there.”

Kimi chuckled and waved goodbye before sauntering down the paddock, leaving Seb to grope for Lewis’s arm as they followed back to the hotel.

“Lewis, help. I don’t know what to do.” He complained, wrenching open the door to his room and throwing himself face first onto his bed.

“That statement could be applied to so many things in your life. Please be more specific.” The Brit said, flicking through a stack of books on his desk.

“Kimi.” Seb said, rolling over and staring blindly at the ceiling. “It’s becoming unbearable. What do I do?”

“It’s not hard.” Lewis said, dropping down into Seb’s desk chair. “Just tell him.”

“Are you nuts? Have you ever met him?”

“Well, I understand your point. But just remember, whatever you choose to do, he’ll be in a different team in five years, so you have until then to work shit out.”

“I helped you out with Nico, so help me with Kimi.”

“You helped me with Nico, huh? Well, that didn’t really last, did it?”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

“Look, if it’s becoming unbearable, you have to tell him. Worst case scenario, your friendship gets a bit awkward.”

“A bit awkward? I don’t think you really understand how this works.”

“I’m a seasoned homosexual, you can have faith in my decisions.”

“Are you, now? Because all your relationships have gone really well, haven’t they?”

“Be quiet. You’ve been in one relationship and it was Theo, for the love of Christ!”

Seb sighed and nestled his head against the pillow, staring at Lewis, who was trying to hack into his laptop.

“You really think I should tell him?”

“Yeah! Hey, here’s an idea. You’ve got five races until the end of the season. Invite him on holiday.”

“Holiday? Lewis, the man has a life, as well as a family in another country. I don’t plan on going to Finland, so if I invite him on holiday, I’m shitting on his only chance to see them.”

“How many days do you go to Germany in the off season?” Lewis asked.

“Maybe two or three weeks?”

“Exactly! The off season is months long, Kimi will have plenty of time to see his family.”

Seb was so afraid of the possibility that Kimi might say no that he kept trying to find reasons as to why he shouldn’t ask at all.

“I’ll ask.” He muttered, not liking the idea of taking Lewis’s advice on Kimi. “But be prepared to never hear the end of it when he inevitably says no.”

Lewis spread his hands, smiling his contagious Cheshire Cat smile.

“Prepared I will be. But seriously, even I can tell that Kimi likes you. Just do it and don’t think about it.”

“Lewis, you don’t get it. Our friendship is special, I don’t want to lose it!”

“Then I don’t know, mate. I have to go round to Nico’s because I left my jacket there.”

“Speaking of horrendously failed relationships, what’s the deal with Valterri?”

“God, that man is hard to read. I can’t tell if he likes me or not.”

“You’re Lewis, everyone likes you! Except, well, Fernando, Nico, me sometimes, that one woman in Costa when you accidentally spilled ice latte on her, Toto…”

“Seb, that’s not helping.”

“Look, you just need to warm up to him. Valterri has, like, a heart and is capable of feeling emotions. He just doesn’t know you well.”

“I have really shit luck when it come to boyfriends.”

“I’m sure Nico is just generally a dickhead.”

“Again, not the most helpful comment at a time of crisis! This is important!”

“Go get your jacket from Nico’s.”

“Do it for me?”

“You have to face him eventually. I know you don’t want to hear it, but he sort of did you a favour. Would you rather he broke up with you when you were in a committed relationship as opposed to now?”

“But he could’ve had a little more mercy about it.”

“Go on.”

“Seb, please, no!”

“Shoo!”

He gently pushed Lewis out of the hotel room, the Brit giving him a dirty look.

“There will be repercussions, Vettel. Repercussions, I say!”

“Mhm.” Seb nodded slowly, unbothered. “I’m sure there will be.”

“I will crash you into the barriers so hard on Sunday, I swear to god.”

“You try that, Lewis. You try that.”

He turned to close the door, ignoring Lewis’s shouts of “Sebastian fucking Vettel, do not walk away from me!” and saw his phone screen full of notifications.

Seb half hoped it was Kimi, but when he saw who it was, his blood boiled.

Seb: I told you to leave me alone.

Theo: please. One more chance.

Seb: Stop or I’ll block your number.

Theo: Just let me explain.

Without another thought, Seb blocked him and deleted the contact. Theo was just a waste of data and Wi-Fi.

Kimi had said to call him if Theo was being stubborn about it, but Seb guessed he was doing something because he had texted to say he was going to miss badminton.

So he practiced something on his guitar, but he couldn’t get the F chord right, so he gave up pretty quickly.

He wanted to go for a run, but he didn’t know the area well, so he’d probably get lost.

There was always the option of taking his motorcycle for a spin, which always seemed to clear his thoughts.

Seb grabbed his leather jacket and bike helmet, before grabbing his headphones.

He went to unlock his bike and saw Lewis deep in discussion with Valterri about something.

For one, he looked a lot happier with the Finn. And he knew Valterri liked bubbly and charming people like Lewis.

Maybe they wouldn’t be as disastrous as him and Nico. Seb certainly hoped not.

He’d been riding for about twenty minutes when he realised he was out of gas. This was not a very good sign.

Especially when his phone decided to run out of charge and they wasn’t a petrol station in sight.

The bike ploughed through another three miles and gave out, leaving Seb stranded on the side of the road.

It was too heavy to push anywhere, and he couldn’t call for someone to come and pick him up.

This was by far the most problematic bike ride he’d ever been on.

What if he missed the race? He wasn’t near the paddock, and he was on the highway.

The odds someone he knew would come past the road were slim to none.

After ten minutes of waiting, he decided to try his luck with pushing it. He made it a meter before he realised he wouldn’t be going anywhere.

It was far too heavy, so he propped it against the fence and waited for another ten minutes.

Seb was just about ready to give up and accept his fate when he heard a car horn and saw Kimi staring at him through blue tinted sunglasses.

“Kimi!” He was incredibly relieved that he wasn’t going to die alone on the side of the highway.

“Seb, what on earth are you doing?” The Finn pulled down his glasses and shoved them in the glove box.

“Forgot to top up my bike and ran out of fuel on the highway.”

Kimi sighed and shook his head, as though marvelling at how he was even friends with this man.

“You amaze me with your intense idiocy sometimes.” But he was grinning as he stepped out of his car.

“I know, I know. Can you give me a ride?”

“Well, I’d be very happy to. Give me your bike would you? Is it foldable?”

“Yeah.”

Seb fiddled with some things and managed to fold it. It wasn’t the cleanest and it had been a while since he’d last made any adjustments to it, so he hoped it wouldn’t ruin Kimi’s boot.

“Sorry about this.”

“Fuck’s sake, Seb, say sorry one more time and I swear to god.”

“Sorry?”

“That’s it. I’m leaving you and your bike out to starve.”

“Kimi!”

“Joking, joking.”

He started up the engine and headed back to the paddock.

“So. Where were you headed?”

“Sometimes I just take it out and just travel the area for an hour when I need to clear my head. But normally I have Google maps pulled up, and my phone died, and… yeah.”

“Well. Lucky I was coming through, then?”

“Yep. I probably would’ve just hitchhiked my way back to the paddock at some point.”

“They could be a serial killer.”

“For all I know, Kimi, you could be a serial killer.”

“Fair enough, I guess.”

They were silent for thre rest of the car journey, and Seb loved it.

Chapter Text

Seb secured his third win of the season the next day, and it felt great.

He was on the podium with Danny and Kimi, which was nice because Seb hadn’t been on the podium with the Finn since Redbull.

Champagne drenched his race suit, making the fabric cling to his torso as Kimi downed half of the huge bottle in one swig.

Seb did the same, nearly spitting it back out again as he remembered the gloriously bitter alcohol that burned his throat.

The Finn looked drunk, but Seb knew he couldn’t have been.

Daniel looked ecstatic about his second podium that season. Maybe he was doing better in Redbull than Seb gave him credit for.

The Aussie sprinted enthusiastically around the podium, showering Guillame, Kimi, Seb and Julien in champagne.

Seb’s hair was dark from all the bittersweet liquid that still kept coming as he tipped his head back and chugged some more.

Winning was the best feeling in the world and, call him competitive, but he would always strive for that feeling.

He nearly fell on his face as Kimi draped his arm around his shoulder, smiling.

“Congratulations.” He said, and Seb looked away so he would be entranced by his ice blue eyes no longer.

“Thanks. Can we play badminton later? There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Kimi frowned but didn’t take his arm from Seb’s shoulder.

“Yeah. Okay.”

When Seb got off the podium, he found Lewis, who gave him a high five.

“Well done, man!”

“Thanks! I just… I think out should ask him today.”

Seb flashed a glance at Kimi, who was talking with Julien about something, and looked back at Lewis.

“About the holiday? Go for it, man.”

“I don’t know what to say to him, what if I mess it up?”

“It’s just a question, Seb. You’re not proposing to him.”

But he was so stressed he might as well have been.

•

Seb got to the badminton courts late and Kimi was already there.

He guessed the Finn was prepared for some really bad news if it had affected his punctuality.

“Hey.” He sat on the parapet and put down his racquet, leaning his elbows on his knees.

“Hey, you wanted to talk to me?”

Now what Seb wanted to say sounded insignificant and he felt like he’d dragged his friend here for nothing.

“Seb?”

He anxiously rubbed his hair, trying to think of the coolest way to say it.

God, he should’ve brought sunglasses so Kimi wouldn’t have been able to tell he was stressed.

Sighing, he opened his mouth to say it and then shut it again. This was a lot scarier than he had anticipated.

“Seb, you know it’s impossible for me to be angry at you, so whatever it is—“

“Imgoingonholidaydoyoywanttocomewithme?” He blurted out so fast that even he had to make sure of what he said.

Kimi paused, then frowned, and turned to Seb, not looking like he understood a word of what the German said.

“Say it slower?” He asked, eyebrows crinkling in confusion.

“I’m going on holiday during the off season,” Seb began, already feeling his heart race, “and I was wondering if you wanted to come. It’s gonna be really short, like a week or two, so you’ll have plenty of time to see your family.”

Kimi was silent for a moment, and Seb panicked and talked more.

“Like, it’s just a question. Not like I’m proposing to you, right?”

Oh, sweet lord. Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut?

The look Kimi gave him made him cringe so hard he thought he was having some kind of allergic reaction.

“That’s what you wanted to ask me?”

“Um, yeah.” He was going to elaborately and gruesomely murder his best friend.

This was all going so horribly wrong. Seb grabbed his bottle and busied himself with taking the longest swig known to mankind.

“Sure, of course.” Seb nearly spat out his water as he looked at Kimi.

“What?”

“I mean, yeah, why not? What harm is a couple of weeks with my favourite badminton partner? Well, my only badminton partner, but you get the point.”

Seb tried not to look at excited at he felt but he was failing miserably.

“Where are we going?”

“Well, we’re going to Germany, but we can go wherever you want.”

“Germany’s number one on my list of places to go.”

“Really? You’ve never been?”

“Not once. Depressingly, F1 doesn’t have a track there.”

“You’re missing out.”

“Heppenheim?”

“Yeah, I was planning to visit my family, but it’s just for the evening, so yeah…”

“Well, if they’re anything like you, I’m gonna love them.”

Did… did he he just say he loves me?

Seb fiddled with the strings of his racquet, trying to stop blushing.

“Thanks. You going to Finland to see your family?”

“A little later in the off season, yeah.”

Seb had run out of small talk ideas, so he remained silent.

“Do you actually want to do any badminton?” Kimi asked, laying back on the parapet like last time.

“Nah, not really.”

“Me neither.”

There was barely enough space, but Seb lay beside him, and the Finn noticed for the first time the strong scent of apple and cedarwood that hung around him.

It was a strong and earthy smell, mingled with the sweat and champagne of the earlier podium.

In his opinion, it was a nice smell. He felt like an idiot for thinking those things, but he couldn’t easily lie to himself.

“Thanks for listening to me about Michael.” Seb said out of the blue.

“You’re welcome.” Kimi replied, fiddling with the grip of his racquet.

“And thanks for being a good teammate. Although you could probably try to kill me and you’d still be better than Mark.”

Kimi chuckled softly and sat up, gazing out at the sky.

The blue hurt his eyes. It wasn’t normally this sunny.

“Thanks for being my badminton partner.”

Seb breathed a laugh and sat up as well, spinning the tip of his racquet on the floor.

“Are we just thanking each other for random things?”

“Yeah. I need to thank you for a lot, so I’m just going to say thank you and I want you to apply it to every situation where you do something for me.”

“Me too. But thanks for saving me from Theo. Although I would’ve loved to crack his skull with a baseball bat.”

Kimi chuckled again. Nobody but Seb made him laugh this much.

The German truly was unlike anyone else Kimi had ever known. It was refreshing to be around him.

Although he knew how much Seb wanted to hear it, he didn’t dare express how excited he was for the holiday.

“I should get going.” Kimi stood up and made for the exit. “We didn’t do any badminton, though.”

“Did you want to?”

“Nope.”

“Me neither. But “meet me outside my hotel room” sounded a bit shady and the courts was all I could think of.”

Kimi shook his head and sighed.

As he stepped into his car, revving the engine and relishing in the sound, he realised it wouldn’t move.

Seb had his helmet on and was climbing onto his bike when he noticed Kimi’s car wasn’t starting.

“Car troubles?” He asked, walking over and inspecting it.

“Unfortunately so.” Kimi climbed out and gave the gleaming red Ferrari a disappointed sigh.

“Let’s see…” Kimi gasped as Seb strolled over to the back and casually took off the whole rear panel.

“Um, Seb?” He said, walking over. “What are you doing to my car?”

“Fixing it.” Seb didn’t look up as he asked, “Do you have a toolbox?”

“Yeah.” He took it from the boot and watched curiously as Seb used a spanner to crank a slightly bent wire.

“Pass me the pliers? You have a corroded connection cable.”

“A what?”

“A corroded connection wire. It’s why the car won’t start.”

After a little bit of fiddling, he put the rear panel back on and stepped back, pleased with his work.

“Start it, go on.”

“Did you just fix my car?”

“I hope so, or else I’ve just cost you at least three thousand euros in damage.”

“Excuse me?”

“Just try it.”

Kimi climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car, pulling onto the road.

“Jesus, where did you learn that shit?”

Seb shrugged, looking embarrassed.

“I was a road car nerd as well as a race car nerd growing up.”

He didn’t want to give away how impressed he was that this man just managed to casually fix a Ferrari with his bare hands.

Kimi had just started to drive away when the car stopped again, and he realised he’d ‘pulled a Sebastian’ and run out of gas.

“Fuck this.” He muttered, rolling his head back and sighing.

“Can I interest you in a ride?” Seb was leaning against his motorcycle a few meters away.

“Life’s a bitch.” Kimi grumbled as Seb threw him one of the spare helmets he had lying around.

“And so are you.” Seb replied with his angelic smile.

“You truly are something else.” Kimi told him as they started down the road.

“That’s what they all say, Kimi. That’s what they all say.”

Chapter Text

Everything was going absolutely perfect until Mexico.

Seb had been on the podium every single time, even scoring second in Russia. No more wins, which sucked, but still he had been better than he though.

He hadn’t been prepared for a day like Mexico. The day had started off horribly.

Of course, it was that godforsaken fucking dream again. He’d never hated the sight of Michael’s face so much.

This time he couldn’t even remember what the dream was about. All he could feel when he woke up was the impending sense of panic.

It was so strong and all consuming that he couldn’t move.

Seb wondered momentarily if it was sleep paralysis, but he could still blink.

When he had regained control of his limbs, he didn’t calm down in the slightest, because his heart was thudding in his chest at a million miles per hour.

Sweat drenched his shirt as he paced for a few minutes, twisting his ring finger. It was a trick his father taught him for nervous flyers, even though he wasn’t one.

Sinking against the wall for fear he might collapse, Seb tried to stop hyperventilating because it was hurting his chest.

He rummaged through his bedside drawer for his inhaler, taking a few puffs. He wasn’t having an asthma attack, but it helped with panic attacks sometimes.

Seb didn’t know how to stop it because he couldn’t remember what the dream was even about.

As he started to calm down a bit, he put away the inhaler and sat on the edge of his bed.

It was short and merciful, because he was able to calm himself down quickly.

This wasn’t always the case. He pulled on his Ferrari shirt and decided that the best way to deal was to walk it off.

Even if it took him a little while, he still managed to walk to the paddock. It was searing hot, and the panic still hadn’t gone away.

As he saw the sea of reporters crowding the paddock, Seb realised that staying calm for the rest of the day was going to be no easy task.

•

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” Lewis nudged him back to reality.

“Maybe it was the ghost of his will to live?” Fernando suggested, getting a thwack on the shoulder from Jenson.

“Nothing, I’m fine.”

Seb’s friends knew him well enough not to mess with him.

If he denied being spacey or anxious, it meant he didn’t want to talk and they had the decency to respect that.

Theo also did, and he didn’t approach Seb before the race.

It was the first time Seb had felt grateful toward him in a long time.

When he got into the car, he had that feeling of this was such a bad idea, why am I here? and he wanted to just slip out and go back to his hotel room.

The red lights started and Seb tried his best to wash away the panic.

As he went down the straight, he tried to remind himself that this was his job and he was a four time world champion.

This just about worked until he made contact with someone and all hope went straight out the window.

It was a Redbull. Seb couldn’t see who, but they looked pretty fine to him.

His wheels, however, couldn’t say the same. They’d taken considerable damage and he needed to pit.

As he trundled down the pit lane, Seb tried to calm himself down. Everything was going to be fine.

After a good pit stop, Seb somehow managed to catch up with the others and he wasn’t last.

Heck yeah, contact and a pit stop on lap one and he wasn’t even last!

Feeling proud of himself, all traces of the panic washed away, Seb was just beginning to let his guard down when Pastor Maldonado overtook him.

You knew shit had hit the fan when Pastor Maldonado overtook you.

Seb was so caught up in that not-so-reassuring train of thought that he wasn’t paying attention, and that was when he spun.

He spun and he lost control of the car so quickly that the panic returned full-force when he smashed into the barriers.

Seb wasn’t physically injured, but it hurt to keep his eyes open.

The race had ended for him. Climbing out of the car, Seb resisted the urge to kick the shit out of one of the poor Marshalls trying to repair the fence.

Without another glance, he turned and marched back to his hotel room.

“Seb!” Guillame’s tried to get his attention as he ripped off his helmet and balaclava.

“Not now, Guillame.” He snapped, and the Frenchman backed away.

Thankfully, seeing the look in his eyes, no reporters bothered him.

Any that approached him took one look at his balled fist and cold expression and decided that they didn’t want to explain to their bosses how they’d got decked by Sebastian Vettel.

He pushed open the door to his hotel room and sighed.

Seb wasn’t one for anger, but as soon as he was alone, a gave a shout of frustration and punched the wall.

It didn’t leave a mark because he wasn’t particularly strong, but it felt good.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Seb took a deep breath and tried to read a book. He didn’t get very far before he decided he was bored.

It had been a while since he had last crashed out. He had never done so during his championship winning days, not once in four years.

Maybe that contributed to the reason why he was reacting so badly; he wasn’t used to it.

He didn’t even care about the crash that much anymore, he just wanted to stop panicking so badly.

This had never happened before. The sickness bouts he could deal with, the nightmares set were bearable.

If this happened after every dream, Seb was going to have to do something about it.

There was a knock at the door and he hesitated before opening it.

When he saw Kimi stood at the entrance, all of his panic came back and hit him like a truck.

His breathing quickened and he tried to stop before Kimi noticed.

“Seb. You okay?” The Finn stepped inside and approached Seb, but the German backed away.

“Just… I don’t…” he could barely form words, so he just paced back and forth.

“What is it, mate?” Kimi blocked his path and put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “What’s going on?”

Seb twisted his ring finger, not sure how to explain what was happening without scaring or weirding him out.

“I’m having a panic attack, but it’s fine.” Seb laughed nervously as he sank back against the wall, chewing his thumbnail.

“It’s not fine, what are you panicking over?” Kimi sat beside him and looked at him.

“It’s not the crash.” He said quickly. “It’s not. I just…”

Now Seb would have to tell Kimi about the dreams. He didn’t want to say anything to anyone, but the Finn left him no choice.

“The dreams.” He managed, wiping away the tears in his eyes.

“What dreams?”

“You’re going to think I’m totally unhinged.” Seb muttered, shaking his head.

“I already said I don’t think that about you.”

“Yeah, but… promise you won’t think I’ve gone crazy?”

“Of course.”

“I have dreams about him. Michael.”

When Kimi didn’t say anything, Seb continued, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the floor.

“I have dreams about him, sometimes I’m reliving memories, other times I’m… I’m just doing something that’s a normal part of my day and he’s there. He’s there like the skiing accident never happened. It hurts like hell and whenever I wake up, I’m sick…” he took a deep breath, but his heart was still racing. “Or I’m panicking.”

Kimi sat and digested the information, looking at Seb who was trying not to hyperventilate.

“Seb.” He said, turning to face his teammate. “Tell me three things you can see.”

“Um… you, the table, the bed…”

“Great. Now tell me three things you can feel.”

“The wind.” He turned his head to the open window. “Um. I don’t know.”

“S’fine. Three things with the colour blue?”

“My hoodie, your sunglasses…” he flicked a glance around the room. “The painting on the wall.”

“Feel better?” He asked as Seb’s breathing returned more or less to normal.

“Yeah. Thanks. How did you know that?”

“Eh, I just do. I know a lot of things, because I’m old and wise.”

“You’re thirty five.”

“Yeah, that’s old in F1 terminology.”

Seb chuckled slightly and was surprised when Kimi hugged him.

The Finn didn’t like physical affection, unless he was drunk, which Seb had experienced firsthand.

He hugged him back, feeling a lot better than he had ten minutes ago. Yep, this man was actually magic.

Chapter Text

“You did it, mate, you really did it!” Seb gripped Lewis in a tight hug. Lewis, the 2015 world champion.

“Yes!” The Brit clawed off his helmet, still in his sweat and champagne soaked race suit. “Fuck you, Nico!”

The driver was sipping water on the other side of the paddock, giving Lewis a dirty look.

Even though Lewis had been world champion for a couple of races, the reality of it all didn’t kick in until after Abu Dhabi.

Under the jet black sky, fireworks burning below the stars, it was more than just a record.

“I actually did it.” Lewis froze, water bottle falling from his hand. “I’m world fucking champion!”

“Damn right you are!” Jenson appeared with Fernando by his side and caught Lewis in a playful headlock.

“Congratulations, Vegan Ham.” Nando tried to look unbothered, but even he was smiling.

“I’m so proud of you.” Seb put an arm around his shoulders and guided them back to the hotel.

“Ready to get totally trashed to kick off the holidays?” Lewis asked, voice high and giddy with excitement.

“I have to catch the flight to Germany with Kimi tomorrow.”

“And? Kimi drinks a litre of whiskey before every race and you know it damn well. Just loosen up a little. I’m your best friend and I just won the world championship.”

“You make this really hard.”

“One drink? A singular shot of vodka and you can go home.”

Seb tried to ignore the puppy dog eyes Lewis was giving him, but he caved in eventually.

“Okay. But just one shot.”

Lewis grinned maliciously, making Seb regret every life decision he’d ever made.

“One shot.”

•

A whole bottle of vodka later, Seb was too trashed to even comprehend how much he’d drank.

“I need to go home.” He said unevenly, slouched in the chair in Lewis’s room.

Still, despite this, he was sober as a nun compared to his friend, who was drinking whiskey out of the bottle.

“Nope.” Lewis tried to stand up but failed miserably and collapsed back into the chair.

“Lew, I’m serious.”

“Nah bro, you never serious.” They stared each other down for a few minutes before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.

“Dude, I’m wasted.” Seb managed to stand and made for the door. “Congrats on your car thing…”

“My championship?”

“Nah, your car thingy…” even Lewis could tell Seb had drank more than he should’ve. “Fuck, my flight…”

“Yeah, don’t miss your flight, or you’ll have to walk there.” Lewis said, swigging the whiskey.

“You can’t walk to Germany, too much water.”

“Bro, leave.”

Seb staggered down the hallway, messily stumbling into his hotel room.

He grabbed three glasses of water and chugged them all consecutively, trying to sober up and somehow prevent the bitch of a hangover he was going to have.

There was a knock on his door and he opened it to reveal Kimi grinning at him.

“Hello there. Wow, you look terrible, what happened?”

“Had some shit to drink.” Seb explained, voice slurred as he leaned against the doorframe.

“My god, Seb.” Kimi shook his head in amazement. “You’re so drunk.”

“No, I’m not.” Seb realised pretty quickly that there was no denying he was drunk out of his mind.

“Well, all I can say is, if you’re too hungover to speak tomorrow, I will be rubbing it in your face.”

“Asshole.”

“Dickhead.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Piece of shit.”

“Can you leave? I’m tired and I want to sleep.”

“Rude.” Kimi tousled his hair and was about to turn away, but knowing the German would remember none of it the next morning, said,

“Love you, goodnight.”

Seb seemed too tired and drunk to even care what he said, just nodded.

“Yeah, love you too…”

Kimi tried to stop his heart beating at quickly as it was. No, Seb didn’t mean it.

He probably thought Kimi was someone else. And besides, he wouldn’t remember anything.

At least, Kimi thought, that was what he hoped.

•

When Seb woke up the next morning, he really wished he could crawl into a hole and die.

He loved his family, but he wasn’t looking forward to flying ten hours whilst hungover.

Seb chugged a bottle of water and went to Kimi’s hotel room.

The Finn was cool as ever in his hoodie and shades, suitcase rolling behind him.

“Morning.” Seb said.

“Well. You look better than what someone who drank nearly a whole half bottle of neat vodka yesterday.”

“Was I that drunk?”

“No.” Kimi said, and Seb relaxed a little, feeling relieved. “You were even worse.”

“Sorry.”

“Bwoah, I’m not even going to tell you not to say the S word.”

They drove to the airport, Kimi making sure Seb didn’t keel over mid-drive.

When they reached it, the familiar deafening noises and nauseating smell were almost comforting to him as he and Kimi endured airport security and waited for their flights.

Seb always hated airports, but he never in a million years would get a private jet.

He hated the assumed personality that came with it. Besides, airports were kind of nice when they weren’t packed.

“I’m excited.” Kimi admitted as Seb fiddled with the suitcase handle.

“Yeah? With good reason. I can tell you’re gonna love Heppenheim.”

They were silent for a bit longer before Kimi stole a glance at his friend, gazing at the screen with the flight times like an excited child.

The sight made him smile softly as Seb turned to look at him.

“What? What is it?”

“No, nothing.”

Kimi had only told Seb he loved him because he had known the German was too trashed to remember it.

But he realised that, if he had proof he wouldn’t make a fool of himself, he would say it again in a heartbeat.

Kimi couldn’t fall for his best friend, but he couldn’t lie to himself either.

“Okay, our gates are opening, let’s go.” Seb stood up and rolled his suitcase over to where they should be.

The fresh air was welcome on his face as Kimi stepped out into the early morning, following the hoarde of people onto the plane.

“So. Tell me. What’s Heppenheim like?” Kimi asked as soon as they were seated.

Seb had his headphones around his neck, but he still looked at Kimi.

“It’s small but not quiet. It’s a bit like shoving New York City into a tiny little space in the middle of nowhere.”

“I like it already.”

“The people are really friendly, all social butterflies. And what’s interesting is how it’s actually a hotspot for tourists and immigrants. The odds you’ll pass someone on the street and they’ll be German is fairly low.”

“Okay… I’m liking it so far.”

“And there’s this lake they added about fifty years ago. It’s small but everyone in Heppenheim has a boat. Everyone. There’s a lot of kayak tours and stuff. My friend Evan is a tour guide.”

“Wow.”

“If you think hearing about it is cool, wait till you get there.”

Seb settled back in his seat and closed his eyes, and Kimi noticed how unfairly angelic he looked when he slept.

The stress that seemed to be weighing on him disappeared, and his face seemed more relaxed.

Kimi needed a distraction, and staring at his teammate wasn’t going to cut it.

He grabbed a book from his bag and started to read, and for a few hours, he was truly immersed in the pages, but then he finished it.

Bored, he sat back and closed his eyes, but he didn’t feel tired. He wasn’t normally this jittery, and he wanted to blame it on Seb, except he knew it wasn’t his fault.

Why did life have to be this complicated?

Chapter Text

“One thing you should know about my family,” Seb said to Kimi as they got out of the taxi and arrived in Heppenheim. “They are not the most normal people ever, so sorry in advance if they say anything strange.”

Kimi wasn’t even slightly fazed. If these people were anything like his teammate, this was going to be a good experience.

“I don’t care if they’re weird. Have you met me?”

“Good point.” Seb grinned as they paused outside a blue painted door and knocked twice.

The man who opened was almost like an identical clone of Seb himself, but with a different haircut and slightly taller.

“Seb!” He wrapped the other in a tight hug, giving him a clap on the back before his eyes flicked to Kimi. “Ah, the man, the myth, the legend! You must be Kimi.”

He held out his hand in friendly handshake.

“I’m Fabian, Seb’s brother.”

“Great to meet you.” Kimi smiled because he was already loving these people.

“That’s Melanie and Stefanie, my sisters.” Seb pointed to two girls in the hallway who waved.

“And this is Elias!” A little kid, no older than three, rushed into the hallway and launched himself at Seb. “Du bist so sehr gewachsen, seit ich dich das letzte Mal gesehen habe.”

Kimi was unsure what to do, but Seb flashed one of his charming smiles and said,

“Sag hallo, Elias!”

The kid waved tentatively at him, and Kimi would be lying if he said it didn’t warm his heart a little to see Seb so happy.

“Kimi! So glad you came!” An old man brandishing a barbecue sauce-covered spatula poked his head in the doorway.

“Kimi, this is my dad Norbert.” Seb said stepping forward to hug him.

“Hello, it’s lovely to meet you.” Kimi said, holding out his hand.

“Likewise.” Norbert said, shaking it happily. “Sebastian… is your boyfriend?”

Seb turned around so fast Kimi was surprised he didn’t get whiplash.

“Dad, Jesus Christ! No, Kimi is my teammate.”

Norbert nodded slowly, and Kimi panicked that he’d been indiscreet about his feelings.

“I see…”

As they crowded into the kitchen, Kimi leaned into Seb and whispered,

“They seem totally normal!”

In reply, Seb just shook his head with a sigh and said,

“Just you wait until dinner.”

•

So far, Kimi could honestly say that he loved the Vettel’s. They were a fun and easygoing family.

He definitely understood now where Seb got his sunshine attitude from.

As they sat on the chairs surrounding the dinner table, Seb grabbed a seat beside Kimi, flashing him a warm smile.

“Hey. How is it so far?”

“It’s amazing. I love your family, they’re all just like you!”

Seb shrugged and smiled bashfully.

Norbert appeared with a woman of a similar age by his side.

“Sebastian!” She hugged him tightly.

“Hey, ma.” He hugged her back, and Kimi felt his skin prickle as she threw him a look.

“Ich habe dir gesagt, dass du keinen anderen Jungen nach Hause bringen sollst!”

Seb sighed and rubbed his eyes, looking exhausted of having this conversation.

“Ich habe es dir schon gesagt. Kimi ist Nur mein Freund.”

“Ich möchte nicht, dass du nach diesem schrecklichen Jungen Theo verletzt wirst!”

“Theo und ich reden nicht mehr.” Seb told her. He turned to Kimi. “Sorry about this.”

Kimi grinned and leaned back, tapping a beat on the tabletop.

“Don’t worry about it.”

As he took a seat once again, Norbert tried to make conversation.

“So, Kimi.” He began. “Tell us. How do you manage being teammates with this Teufel?”

“What?” Kimi looked at Seb, grinning.

“It means little devil.” Norbert explained. “We used to call him that when he was younger.”

“Dad…” Seb mumbled, but it was half-hearted.

“I’m gonna be stealing that.” Kimi said, making Seb shove him lightly.

“Don’t you even think about it.”

He noticed the look the rest of the family were giving him and went back to staring awkwardly at his plate.

“Let me tell you,” Norbert continued. “When Seb secured his F1 seat, the first thing he does is throw a huge party on our boat on the lake.”

Kimi turned to Seb, who’s cheeks burned.

“Did you actually?”

“Maybe… okay, yes, I threw this massive rager with about thirty people.”

“No way. I’m telling Lewis about this.”

Seb shook his head, smiling. So far, this was going less disastrously than he thought it would.

All he had to do was pray to god it stayed that way.

•

After they’d left, Seb and Kimi walked down the ghostly empty street in silence.

“That was great.” Kimi said, turning to smile at him.

“Glad you enjoyed it. It was nice to see them again.”

Seb kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead, and Kimi glanced at his feet.

The silence returned, and Kimi felt totally comfortable, whereas Seb was dying for him to say something.

“You ever had bratwurst?” He asked suddenly.

“What?”

“You know bratwurst. That sausage thing?”

“No, never.”

“It amazes me how you’re still even alive.”

“Is that not just a little bit of an exaggeration?”

Seb grinned at him in a way that made Kimi feel like he was going to regret saying that.

“Oh, my friend, try bratwurst once and you’ll never say that again. Uncultured British people like Lewis say it doesn’t taste of anything, but it’s actually food of the gods.”

“I’m a little scared now.”

They crossed the street and found themselves in a bustling market area that was so loud Kimi could barely hear Seb when he said,

“It’s just up ahead!”

Passing stalls selling various products, some buskers and even a couple of acrobats performing in the park for money, they found a little space where a mini van with an open side like an ice cream van sold bratwurst.

“Sebastian!” The man greeted him with a wide smile.

Did everyone in this place somehow know Seb? Was he really that famous, or was it really that small?

“Nachmittag, Paul. Könnten wir zwei Bratwürste bekommen?”

“Natürlich, natürlich. Gib mir zwei Minuten.”

After a couple of seconds the man returned with two cardboard boxes with sausages inside them.

He nodded at Kimi with a grin.

“Netter Freund.”

“Paul, how many times? He’s not my boyfriend!”

Kimi tried not to blush too much at the fact that everyone in Germany seemed to think he was dating Seb.

He handed him the cardboard box and stepped back, satisfied.

“Try it and tell me what you think. There is a right answer to this question.”

Kimi took one small bite and he knew he’d found his new favourite food.

“Holy shit…” he mumbled, entranced by the flavour. “And when you were growing up, you could have this any time you wanted?”

“Me and my friends used to get some after school a couple of times a week.”

“And all us Finns got was some lousy fish.”

To that, Seb laughed, cheeks red from the cold air that came with the evening.

“Thank you, Seb.” He said, not entirely sure what he was thanking him for.

“Likewise, Kimi.”

“What do you have me to thank for?” He asked, finishing the bratwurst and throwing the cardboard box into the bin.

“A lot.”

Kimi looked at his feet for a little, before making eye contact with Seb.

“Yeah, me too.”

Chapter Text

Kimi was woken up at six in the morning to a sound outside like someone was trying to take down the house with a sledgehammer, one swing at a time.

Most people knew that nothing, absolutely nothing, got in the way of Kimi and his sleep.

If a murderer was trying to kill him in the middle of his nap, he’d tell them to piss off and probably go back to sleep.

But when he poked his head into Seb’s room and saw the bed fully made, the German not present, he decided to go look for him.

Changing into a T-shirt and shorts, he stepped outside and saw Seb doing donuts on the lake in a fairly sizeable boat.

His house was under a shady patch of trees right next to where the grass morphed into water.

Seb had a hammock out back where the lapping of water against the stones could be heard, and he drew there every day during the off season.

The man wasn’t exactly known for being an early riser, so Kimi was surprised to see him awake and ready to go, in an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt and white tee with shades clipped to them.

When Seb caught sight of Kimi stood dumbfounded on the lake’s edge, he pulled up beside him with perfect accuracy and flashed him his signature grin.

“Morning.”

“Hey, Seb.”

“I got bored of waiting for you to wake up so I took the boat out for a spin. You coming?”

“Yeah.” Kimi accepted Seb’s hand and clambered onto the boat, nearly falling straight back off again as it rocked dangerously.

“Ah, don’t worry about that, it’s not very stable.”

“You know that means you should probably get it fixed instead of taking it out anyway, right?”

“You’re so boring.” Seb smiled and gave Kimi a playful shove, starting up the boat again. “And I got you a present to make up for the fact that you’re on a boat in Germany at six in the morning instead of sleeping.”

He nodded to the table, where Kimi saw a bottle of gin.

“Oh my god, I love you.”

Kimi didn’t think too hard on what he’d just said, and he didn’t notice the way Seb turned back to the steering wheel, blushing profusely.

“So this is Heppenheim lake.” Seb said, boat chugging across the water and overtaking another one.

“Wow. It’s really cool. Are there fish in this thing?”

“Oh, Kimi, there are sharks.”

Kimi shrank back into his seat, suddenly feeling very unsafe.

But he was with Seb, and he could be in a house fire but feel fine as long as Seb was with him.

“Are you being serious?”

“No, mate, this is Germany. There aren’t any sharks.”

“Don’t scare me like that.”

“Aw, are you afraid of sharks, Kimi?” Seb teased, taking his eyes off the water to give him another devilish grin.

“Teufel.” Kimi muttered, shaking his head.

“What did you just call me?” Seb took an abrupt left and Kimi fell off his chair.

Seeing the pained expression on his teammate’s face, Seb quirked his eyebrows.

“That’s what I thought.”

They sat in silence for a bit, but Kimi could barely hear himself think over the roar of the boat.

He was about to say something, but Seb beat him to it.

“Oh, god. It’s happened again.”

That statement could mean many, many things, and Kimi didn’t want to think about most of them.

“What? What is it?”

“My friend Evan was put in charge of a kayak expedition and he somehow managed to get everyone stranded again.”

“Again? You mean this has happened multiple times?”

“The guy needs to actually go on a kayak expedition himself. Okay, I know you hate people and I’m sorry, but this boat is about to get a little crowded.”

“How crowded?”

“Maybe seven or eight more people. No more than ten.”

They pulled to a stop beside a flock of people in kayaks, sitting like lemons, half of them without a paddle.

The person at the front in an orange life jacket looked up at Seb, and the expression on his face would make you think he was being saved by god.

“Seb!”

“Well, well, well. I see you’ve got yourself in a bit of a pickle, Evan.”

“Oh my god, help. We got to the centre and half of these guys capsized and lost their paddles. I don’t know how to get them back to shore.”

“Sounds like a massive you problem.”

“Sebastian!”

“I haven’t got my revenge for you telling my dad about the party I threw on this boat.”

“I swear to god—“

Seb burst out laughing, before helping the guy Evan onto the boat.

He walked over and gave Kimi and friendly handshake, and the Finn noticed that he had handsome features, but he wasn’t snooty like Theo.

“Hi, I’m Evan, Seb’s friend. And you must be Kimi?”

“How did you know?”

“Oh, there are a select few people here that absolutely worship you, man.”

Kimi flushed, not knowing he had fans in a place that was obsessed with his teammate.

“So. Are you his boyfriend?”

Seb, who was in the middle of helping the other people onto the boat, shouted,

“Oh my fucking god, everyone in the whole of Germany thinks Kimi is my boyfriend!”

“I’ll take that as a no?” Evan frowned.

Once everyone was safely on the boat, Seb glanced down at the kayaks that were floating away.

“Want me to go get those?”

“I’ll be fired on the spot if anything happens to boss’s precious kayaks.”

Seb took off his Hawaiian shirt and put his sunglasses on the table next to the gin, before pulling his T-shirt over his head.

Kimi did his best to look away, because now was not a good time to be distracted by his shirtless teammates.

The German dived into the water and managed to pull the kayaks onto a small compartment down the bottom of the boat.

When he climbed back onto the deck, his hair was wet and stuck to his forehead, water trickling down his torso.

Kimi stared at the floor so hard there were tears in his his eyes because wow, he picked an inconvenient time to fall for this man.

And there is was. Kimi was falling for him. That was the terrifying reality that he had been running from.

“You good, man?” Evan briefly touched his shoulder.

He made the mistake of looking up and saw Seb still very shirtless, talking to one of the rescued kayakers.

His chest was fairly toned, his skin tanned from the months spent in hot countries during the racing season.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” Evan asked, but it wasn’t accusingly.

“A little bit.” Kimi answered meekly.

“Don’t worry. Everyone who knows Seb is a little bit in love with him. It’s hard not to be. That man is a literal ray of sunshine.”

“You’re right.” Kimi said, feeling incredibly relieved when Seb put his shirt back on.

This was going to be a hard holiday.

•

“You want pasta for dinner?” Seb asked Kimi, who had been reading a book on the sofa.

“Yeah!”

“Okay. But you have to pick which sauce goes on it.”

“Um… pesto.”

“Try again.” Seb said immediately.

“What’s wrong with pesto?”

“It tastes like shit.”

“You’re wrong, but okay. What about bolognaise?”

“Bolognaise is good. Can we make it together?”

“Depends. Can you cook?”

“Not at all.”

“That’s great, because neither can I.” He admitted.

“This is gonna be one hell of a bolognaise.”

They got started chopping the vegetables and frying them, reading off a recipe on Seb’s phone.

It was going fine until disaster struck, and the power cut out.

The lights shut off, and Seb’s phone, which had been on one percent, stopped charging.

“We can salvage it, just… shit, my phone’s dead. What do we do?”

“Just throw everything in there. Odds are, it’s edible.”

“That’s not reassuring at all, Kimi.”

“Just do it, Seb.”

They threw whatever they thought was food into the pan (which was still frying on the gas stove) and hoped for the best.

When the lights eventually came back on, both of them were horrified by the monstrosity that they’d created.

“Kimi, why did you put a dino nugget in the bolognese?”

“I couldn’t see and I thought it was garlic!”

“And is that… a Cheeto? I don’t even have Cheetos!”

“This isn’t edible. It can’t be.”

“You wanna bet?”

They made some pasta and spooned some of the concerningly-coloured bolognaise onto it.

“Why is it grey?”

“I don’t think I want to know.”

Seb poked at it with a fork, inspecting it from an angle.

“My god, there’s broccoli in here that I should’ve thrown out years ago.”

“I dare you to take the first bite.” Kimi grinned. “Do it and I’ll let you past every race for the next two years.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Damn right it is.”

Seb sighed in complete and utter defeat at the substance on his fork.

“I hope you have 911 on speed dial.”

He took a tentative bite and swallowed begrudgingly, nearly throwing it back up.

“Holy fucking shit…” he stood up, feeling nauseous, and downed a glass of water.

“Is it really that bad?”

“It’s worse.”

As Seb downed more water, Kimi sat back and chuckled.

He hadn’t had this much fun with anyone in a long time. Maybe Seb was special.

Fuck that, everyone knew Seb was special. He was, to quote Evan, a literal ray of sunshine.

Seb sat back down, glaring daggers at the bolognaise, and Kimi shook his head fondly.

He was going to have an interesting few years as his teammate.

Chapter Text

The rest of the holiday passed quickly and so did the off season for Seb.

It had been a problematic and, in some cases, life-threatening holiday with Kimi, but it had been his favourite so far.

Fortunately, the Finn felt the same way. A year had passed and now 2016 was dawning, another year of badminton and art.

Seb found his friends talking outside the Ferrari garage, and felt relived to see them for the first time since 2015.

“Seb!” Lewis sauntered over and grabbed his shoulder, expression serious. “As your best friend, I have so much to fill you in on.”

“Well, it’s great to see you too, Lewis.”

“Aw, you know I love you, Douchemeister. But while you were on your romantic honeymoon with Kimi—“

Seb smacked his shoulder. “What the hell? It wasn’t a romantic honeymoon!”

“Anyways, as I was saying, I got together with Valterri. Nando and Jenson did a lot of making out. Oh, and I told Nico to go fuck himself in front of about ten journalists.”

“What?”

“And Jenson is acting weird. Like, super weird. I can’t work out what’s wrong with him. You’re our resident people person, talk to him.”

“You know that just because I have a single shred of socialising skills doesn’t mean I can magically fix everyone’s problems.”

“I know. But you’ve got a better shot than any of us.”

Seb walked over to Jenson, who was dead silent instead of his usual self.

Lewis was right; there was something fishy going on here.

“Jense? Can I talk to you?”

“Um, yeah. Good break, Seb?”

“It was alright. You?”

“Well. I have a slight dilemma and I’m not sure what to do.”

“Has is got something to do with Nando?”

“Yes. Sort of.”

“Okay, well, you’re going to have to tell me what it is.”

“Promise you won’t get angry at me?”

“Yeah.”

Jenson was silent for a moment, fiddling with the handle of water bottle.

“I don’t want to say.”

“Then we can’t help you, mate!”

“It’s just that…” Jenson sighed and chewed his thumbnail. “I’m retiring.”

Seb’s jaw dropped.

“Really? Oh my god. That’s great! I mean, it’s great that you’re finally taking the break from racing you need. Not great that we won’t see you again.” Seb paused, the information clocking in his brain.

The look on Jenson’s face said it all.

“And you know Fernando is going to be pissed.”

“Exactly. He won’t forgive me for leaving, but I have to. There’s nothing left for me in racing anymore.”

“If Fernando truly loves you, he’ll respect your decision.” Seb told him.

“Seb, you know better than most people that Fernando can be hotheaded at times. He’s gonna come around eventually, but I’m scared he’ll just break up with me on the spot.”

“And if he does, he’ll see the mistake he made and get back with you.”

“You think?” Jenson asked,

“I know.” Seb reassured him. “As much as I hate to admit it, I’ve known Nando for a very long time, and in that time, I’ve pissed him off so many times I should have a commendation for it. He always sees sense eventually.”

Jenson smiled at him, a sad smile full of regret that made Seb feel a sharp stab of sadness that he’d never see this man again after 2016.

They’d be able to meet up occasionally outside of races, but only a couple of times a year.

“Seb!” Kimi appeared from behind and pulled down the brim of his cap, making him laugh. “Oh, and Jenson. Hello.”

“Morning, Kimi. I was just telling Seb that I’m retiring.”

“Really? Good for you. Fernando’s gonna flip his shit.”

“Yup.”

“Want us to help you calm him down?”

“Oh, Kimi, I really appreciate your help, but there is no ‘calming down’ when it comes to Fernando.”

“I suppose you have a point. C’mon Seb, we’ll be late for Free Practice.”

•

It was the most dismal performance Seb had done in years.

FP1, he crashed out, which made him exceptionally angry, but he took it better than he had in Mexico last year.

In FP2, he was hardly proud of his result of eight, but he managed third in FP3.

2016 looked like yet another year of being stuck behind Nico and Lewis. Except this year, Nico was doing better.

Seb didn’t want to think about how Lewis would react to Nico winning the championship.

It was common knowledge by now around the paddock and even to the press that the two hated each other.

For him, it was a little sad, because Seb actually missed hanging out with Nico.

Sure, he’d been a douche, broken his best friend’s heart, and not even had the attitude to congratulate him on his championship.

But there were days when the German was nice. Back in Seb’s winning era, they talked often.

He knew now that Lewis would flip his shit if he found out he and Nico were still talking.

“You don’t look very happy.” Kimi noted, dropping down beside him on the sofa of his hotel room.

“I’m not.”

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“FP sucked.”

“Well. I can’t say I disagree with you there.”

“Do you think I’m burning out as a driver?” Seb asked suddenly.

He was desperate for an answer, however unready he was to hear it.

Kimi seemed a little bit surprised by the question. Seb had confidence in his abilities; he wasn’t full of himself, but he wasn’t a doubter.

He made his decisions. He did what he thought was right. And if he fucked it up, then whatever.

The Finn didn’t expect to be the person Seb confided in as to whether or not he was burning out.

“No.” Was all he said. He didn’t offer any kind of explanation because he knew Seb well enough to know that for a person like Kimi, he didn’t need one.

“Really? Because you know damn well that five years ago I wouldn’t be crashing out or coming eighth.”

Seb was right. He’d changed as a driver, but not necessarily for the worse.

“It’s an issue with the car. It has to be. Redbull was winning everything and we both know firsthand that Ferrari isn’t exactly amazing.” Kimi told him.

“You think so?” Seb stared absently-mindedly at the ceiling.

“I know so. But what’s making you say all of this stuff?”

Seb shrugged. He’d been troubled over his results, even though he didn’t dare show it.

“Dunno. Lewis said people are all over social media talking about how I’m gonna retire soon.”

“Bullshit.”

“I know. It just makes me feel like shit to know that people… I just…”

Seb didn’t know how to express what he was feeling.

His phone rang, a call from an unknown number, but he picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Seb.”

His blood boiled and his finger hovered momentarily over the hang up button.

“I thought I deleted your contact?”

“Yeah, but I know your number.”

“Look, now is a really bad time for one of your long rants about how sorry you are. How many times? I’m not getting back with you.”

“It’s not about that. I need you to meet me outside there paddock at ten.”

“Why?”

“Seb, I swear it’s urgent and I need your help.”

“Not sure why I should give it to you.”

“You know I’m sorry. I won’t try to enforce it anymore. Just help me out once.”

Kimi was perched on the sofa beside him, frowning. The Finn would probably have his head if he found out Seb was even talking to Theo.

“I have to go. But I’ll see.”

As he hung up and shoved his phone in his pocket, he had a horrible feeling in his chest.

A feeling like he was going to regret this.

Chapter Text

Seb was tired of wishing Theo would leave him alone.

Honestly, it was becoming slightly unnerving how obsessed the Brit was with getting back with him.

He wished he could make it clear that he wasn’t interested, because if this was kept up much longer, he’d have to file a restraining order.

Maybe that was an exaggeration, but he really needed to stay way from him for the time being.

“You came. Thanks.” Seb had made the mistake of not bringing his baseball bat.

As he turned around, he saw Theo leaning against the wall.

“Psychotic piece of shit, tell me what I’m doing here or I swear to god I’m going to push you into oncoming traffic.”

Seb wasted no time making sure Theo knew exactly how he felt about this situation.

“Okay.” He raised his hands, taking a step forward. “I’ll make this short and sweet.”

“You’d better.”

“Seb. I really like you.” The German sniggered, looking away.

“Bit late for that, don’t you think?”

“I was going through a rough time when you got to F1 and I didn’t. I wasn’t mentally stable enough to talk to anyone. When I resurfaced in 2010, I was a little bit half-assed because I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me again—“

“That’s thirty seconds, Theo. You’re clock is ticking.”

“Just give me one more chance.”

“Do you have fucking hearing problems or something? No! Just leave me alone!”

Theo stepped forward without any warning and tried to kiss him.

It took less than a second for Seb’s reaction, which was to push Theo so hard he fell over.

“What the sweet fuck is wrong with you?”

“I…”

“No. You don’t get a chance to explain, Theo. Not this time. Get out now or I’ll fuck you up.”

Theo leapt to his feet. He put one hand on Seb’s shoulder, but the German lost his temper and punched him.

“Don’t touch me!”

The Brit staggered backward, clutching his bleeding nose. This was the worst night of his life.

“Asshole…” Theo snapped, wiping away the blood.

Seb started forward to punch him again, but Theo grabbed his fists and slammed him against the wall.

He was momentarily scared that he was going to kiss him again, but instead, he got his own punch in the face.

Fortunately for him, Theo wasn’t exactly the depiction of strong, so it was only a light discomfort.

Seb managed to tackle him to the ground, too angry to care what was going to happen.

This man had taken it too far. If he had just left the first time, none of this would be happening.

He punched him, getting rid of all the anger that boiled inside his veins, finally free of that rage that made it impossible to think.

And it felt good.

Seb wasn’t prepared for someone to grab him from behind and wrestle him off Theo.

He definitely didn’t expect that person to be Kimi.

What he was doing outside the paddock at this time of night was a mystery to Seb, but he was half grateful and half annoyed that he had disrupted his task of beating the shit out of Theo.

Kimi grabbed the collar of Theo’s shirt and forcefully pulled him to his feet.

“I’m giving you ten seconds to tell me what you did to him,” the Finn seethed, “or you’ll be driven back to the paddock, in an ambulance.”

“I didn’t… I tried to…” Theo stuttered, terrified by the man one word away from breaking his skull.

Whilst they fought, Seb turned and sprinted back to the paddock, not wanting Kimi to follow him.

His nose stung, and he had a few drops of blood on his shirt, and a cut on his forehead from where Theo had slammed him against the wall.

But he was finally free of him, and that was something.

When he got back to his hotel room, he dropped down onto his bed and tried to fight away the tears in his eyes.

There was blood on his bed, but Seb didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything right now.

Someone knocked on his door, and he prayed to god it wasn’t Kimi.

“Leave me alone.” He muttered, turning away from the door.

“Seb. It’s me.” Lewis said, pushing open the door. “Shit. What happened to your face?”

“Fight.” Was all Seb said.

“With who?”

“Theo.” He replied sadly, staring blankly at the ceiling.

“That’s it. I’m going to kill him.”

“I think Kimi beat you to it.” Seb admitted.

“Then I’ll ask the FIA to put a restraining order on you two. Better yet, have him kicked out of the paddock.”

“I have no proof. Confiscating someone from the paddock is a big deal.”

“You know what else is a big deal? Getting beaten up by your crazy ex.”

“It’s kind of my fault. I punched him first.”

“What did he do?” Seb almost didn’t want to say, scared of what Lewis would do to him.

He hated Theo, but he didn’t wish for the guy dead. With people like Kimi and Lewis, he was lucky to survive till morning.

“Eh, the usual. And he told me why he ignored me. He was going through a tough time and wasn’t mentally stable.”

“That’s an excuse, not a reason.”

“Lewis, I just want to be alone right now.” Seb didn’t mean to hurt his best friend, but he couldn’t stomach the thought of being around others.

He didn’t want to see Kimi either. And that was a rare occurrence.

“Okay.” The Brit looked slightly downcast but he didn’t protest.

As he stood up, he paused in the doorway, turning his head slightly.

“Call me if you need anything. I’ll tell Kimi to leave you alone.”

“Thanks.”

Seb’s injuries continued to hurt, but he managed to drift into a restless sleep.

•

By Quali, Seb hadn’t healed, but he felt considerably better.

The press were knee deep in the story of Nico and Lewis, so they didn’t pay him much attention.

Thankfully, he managed to put on his helmet and balaclava before Maurizio or anyone saw.

“Seb, there’s an hour until Qualifying, why are you in your helmet? Guillame asked.

He shrugged, staring straight ahead and avoiding eye contact with his engineer.

“Excited.”

“Tell me what happened to your face.” The Frenchman said.

“It’s a little banged up. I fell off my bike.”

“I sense that you’re lying to me.” He said breezily.

“What are you, a fortune teller?”

“Take off the god damn helmet, Seb.”

Reluctantly, he pulled off his helmet and balaclava, hating the look on Guillame’s face.

“Did you get into a fight?”

“It wasn’t major, don’t worry about it. He’s leaned his lesson.”

“Put it back on, Maurizio will have a fit. Not to mention what stories the press will make about it.”

Seb pulled it back on, biting back a wince as it aggravated the cut on his face.

“I’m trying to get into the zone so that I don’t fuck up Quali.”

“You won’t fuck it up, don’t worry mate.”

“Can you keep Theo Ridgefield out of the Ferrari garage for, like, ever?”

“Is this about him? Was he the person you got into a fight with?”

“Yep.”

“Right. I’ll tell Maurizio and the rest of the mechanics to keep an eye out. Does Kimi know about this?”

“Yeah. Can you keep him away, too?”

“Why?”

“Just because. Please, Guillame?”

“Okay, fine. But just for your information, he’s been asking all around the paddock for you?”

“Shit.”

“At least talk to him. He’s worried about you.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“That’s fine. Stay here until Quali, I’ll get Theo out of here.”

“Legend. I owe you.”

“Damn right you do.”

Chapter Text

“Tell me what’s up with Jenson.” Fernando pestered as Seb peeled off his race suit and dumped his helmet down.

It was the day after the Australian Grand Prix, in which Seb had come third (again) and Fernando was determined to get to the bottom of his boyfriend’s strange behaviour.

“I dunno.” Was all Seb said, walking away even though Nando followed.

“You have to know. I saw you two talking the other day.”

“Nando, I don’t have access to everyone’s brains. You two are dating. Maybe you should talk to him.”

“He won’t tell me anything.”

When he saw how scared the Spaniard looked, Seb almost felt bad.

He didn’t know what it was like to be in a committed relationship with someone and see them so downcast.

Jenson’s mood hadn’t improved since he’d spoken to Seb, unfortunately.

The Brit was still doing a pretty good job of ignoring everyone. Seb had come up to him on multiple occasions and told him to tell Fernando, but he’d chickened out.

As infuriating as it was, Seb still understood. He didn’t want to make it worse with Jenson and his boyfriend.

He knew how much they meant to each other, but also how bad of a temper Nando could have.

Deep inside, any overreaction would be because Fernando didn’t want to have any long distance relationships.

Jenson was planning to move back to England to be with his family after the death of his father, and Fernando had a while yet before his retirement.

“I’m sorry, mate. I don’t know what’s up. You know Jenson’s been a little unlike himself since he lost his dad. Maybe just let him be.”

Fernando’s gaze softened a little, and he turned away, looking at his feet.

“For the first time in twenty eight years, you’re right.”

“Off you go. I’m willing to bet Jenson wants to see you.”

Fernando jogged in the direction of his hotel room, leaving Seb to stare after him.

He flinched when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Kimi!” He locked eyes with the Finn, feeling himself be overwhelmed with panic like he was drowning.

“Your face…” the Finn brought a hand to cup his cheek so that he could get a closer look, and even though there was nothing romantic about the gesture, all seb could think about was his hand on his face.

Again. Those strangely nice hands. But this time, Seb didn’t hate himself for thinking it.

He was in love with Kimi and there was no point in denying it anymore.

“Theo. Did he do this?” Seb was snapped back to reality by Kimi’s angry voice.

“I did worse to him.”

“That piece of shit. I thought I’d finally ended him last night.”

“Kimi, what did you do?”

“I beat the shit out of him for hurting my best friend.”

Best friend? Were Seb and Kimi best friends now?

Even though Lewis would probably have his head if he knew Seb had replaced him (which he hadn’t. Lewis would always be his best friend) Seb felt a jolt of happiness.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I didn’t, so I did even more. I got the FIA to kick his sorry ass out of the paddock and if he bothers you again, you tell me. Understood?”

Seb paused, resisting the urge to lean into Kimi’s touch, his hand still on his face.

“Yeah. Thank you, really.”

“What can I say? I got worried when I found out he called you, so I was walking over to your room when I saw you beating him up.”

“You could’ve just let me end him right there.”

“But then I wouldn’t be able to see you if you got sent to prison for manslaughter.”

Seb chuckled slightly, looking at his feet.

Somehow, Guillame was right again. Talking to Kimi made everything better.

“I… thank you. Again.”

“S’okay.”

“Can we play some badminton? Some actual badminton, I mean. Not just sit on the wall and complain about life.”

“Aw, sitting on the wall and complaining about life is the highlight of my week!”

“Mine too, Kimi. Mine too.”

With some convincing, Seb caved in and let Kimi hitch a ride on his motorcycle.

“I like going on them.” Kimi said, climbing off and tossing Seb the helmet. “Maybe I should get a licence.”

“I feel like you already have a licence for anything on wheels.”

“Doesn’t work like that. First season, I had to get a driver’s licence for Monaco and I nearly failed.”

“Really? Imagine being able to say that you failed Kimi Räikkönen’s driving test.”

Kimi gave him a playful shove as they wandered onto the courts.

“I kind of missed playing badminton with you during the off season.”

“Me too.” Seb tried but failed not to blush.

They played three times, burning through nearly two hours just playing in total silence.

Seb had, truthfully, missed these precious moments. Perhaps he should bargain with Antti and Mark to let them do this instead of training.

“You beat me.” Kimi grinned, swigging his water bottle.

“It was inevitable. I am inevitable.”

“Don’t turn a fucking badminton match into a marvel film.”

Seb sat beside him on the parapet, hugging his knees to his chest.

“Time to sit on a wall and complain about life!”

“Yay.”

“Do try and contain your excitement, Kimi.”

The Finn snorted and tapped his badminton racquet against the floor.

“You called me your best friend earlier.” Seb said, staring at him.

“Yeah. I did.”

“I thought Valterri was your best friend?”

“Yeah, but Valterri never invited me on holiday.”

“Seems a bit pointless. You both live in Finland.”

“Suppose you’re right.”

Seb studied him for a moment, his ice blue eyes, his sandy blonde hair, and realised falling for him was bound to happen at some point.

Kimi was the sort of person Seb always had feelings for eventually. The sort of person he could be the best of friends with, but nothing more.

It was agonising. Watching this man, clearly into women, whilst having to pretend like their friendship was all he wanted.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“I’m looking directly past your shoulder and marvelling at the intricate details on the wall of the changing rooms.”

“So… you’re staring at me.”

“I’m staring at you.”

“You know, Seb, I’m lucky to have you, really.” Kimi said resting his elbow on the German’s shoulder.

“Anyone would be lucky to have me.”

“I’m being serious. I don’t just call any random badminton partner my best friend.”

Seb looked at his feet. Kimi was normally the one that closed up at the slightest emotion, but now he wasn’t sure what to do now that the tables had turned.

“Kimi, I don’t think anyone will be able to compete with Lewis. But if I’m being honest, you’re sort of my best friend too at the moment. Lewis is trying to seduce Valterri, and it seems to be working, to his credit, and right now I feel like I’ve been with you a whole lot more.”

The Finn paused for a moment, and then smiled. Like a reflex, Seb smiled back.

“Maybe one day we can be badminton world champion, like Lin Dan.”

“Sure beats F1 world champion, eh?”

He laughed breezily and looked at his feet, and Seb could’ve kidded himself into believing that he was blushing.

“We should head back to the paddock.” Kimi glanced at his watch.

“No, no we shouldn’t. We should stay here. Live here, even.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to do any racing.”

“You know me so well.”

They headed back to Seb’s motorbike and rode back to the paddock in silence.

Truthfully, Sebastian didn’t want to race. He wanted to stay at the courts with Kimi forever.

But again, that was creepy. So no.

Life was made so much harder by being in love with your teammate.

•

“And then he called me his best friend!" Seb practically yelled in anguish at Lewis, who was swinging absentmindedly back and forth on Seb’s desk chair.

“Best friend? Knife to the heart.”

“Yeah, but… he sort of is my best friend at the moment.”

“Ouch. After all that money I spent on ice lattes for you, and all I get is “Kimi is my best friend, Kimi is so amazing!” I should invest in a better best friend.”

“A bestest friend?”

“Yeah, a bestest friend. Valterri is my new bestest friend, Seb, you can go back to your lower-level best friend activities with Kimi.”

“I have a dilemma and you’re trying to make me laugh, this is a time of crisis! And as your second bestest friend—“

“Woah there, who said you were my second bestest friend? That’s reserved for Jenson.”

“Alright. Third bestest friend.”

“Dude, you’re solidly around the sixth or seventh bestest friend mark. Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Oh Lewis, you have no idea. No fucking idea.”

Chapter Text

By free practice of the Spanish Grand Prix, Seb was less than impressed with his performance.

Two crashes in three weeks. Not the way he was hoping 2016 would start for him.

On the plus side, he came second in China, but he’d crashed out of the other two.

Russia and Bahrain. They were love-hate tracks for him. The unpredictable ones.

Street circuits and such often played in his favour. But these ones were a menace to deal with, especially with Kimi and Theo on his mind.

Don’t even get him started on Jenson. Every race is one race closer to the day they would part ways.

It was painful. His colleagues in F1 were only people he ever thought he had to say goodbye to in the event of a tragedy.

Fatal crashes happened. Jules had been Seb’s friend. But that was something he didn’t want to think about.

The realisation that Jenson was retiring slapped every day.

“You’ll have to tell him eventually.” He said for the millionth time as the Brit chewed his thumbnail anxiously.

“I can’t.” He mumbled, ruffling his brown hair, distressed.

“If you keep chickening out of it, the less time you’ll both have with each other.”

“It almost feels like the wrong decision.” Jenson admitted, sagging hopelessly as Seb saw Fernando chatting with Ron.

“Dude, just do it. Fernando would throw himself in front of a moving car for you and you know it.”

“Let’s be honest, Fernando would throw himself in front of a moving car for fun.”

“Seb!” Kimi caught up with him and grinned, the German feeling his face heat up as his icy blue eyes bore into him.

“Morning.”

“Tell me, how long do you think Lewis and Valterri are gonna last?”

“Meh, I’m giving them until the end of the season.”

“I’m sticking with them, to he honest. Val won’t stop ranting to me about their first date.”

“You think?”

“I think we’re late for free practice is what I think.” Kimi smiled devilishly. “Teufelschen.”

“I swear to god. Call me that one more time and I’ll move teams.”

Kimi stopped laughing immediately. Seb didn’t know why it had made him go so quiet all of a sudden.

They walked in silence until Kimi stopped, not caring if they were late and Maurizio threw a fit and had Antti and Mark train the shit out of them.

“Seb.” He said quietly, staring intensely at the ground.

“Uh, yeah?” Seb replied, taking a step forward.

“You know how you’re, like, my best friend? And I love you?”

“I feel like that was established yesterday.” Seb tried to keep the conversation light, but Kimi’s seriousness was scaring him.

“I just… never mind.”

Kimi kept walking, Seb staring after him dumbfounded.

“Mate, you can’t scare me shitless with that serious face and then just drop the subject! What is it?”

“I said I didn’t matter, Seb.”

“It does matter, Kimi. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Leave it, Sebastian.” The Finn said it slightly louder this time, and Seb fell silent.

“Okay.” He said quietly.

“Sorry, I… didn’t mean to snap at you. I just got stressed about something but it doesn’t matter.”

“Um, yeah. No worries.”

It troubled Seb all day.

•

The only real bad thing about the Spanish Grand Prix was the fact that Seb had to endure the eight hour ferry and two hour bike ride to the Schumacher home.

But this time, he was determined not to go alone.

“Seb…” Kimi mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “It’s, like, four in the morning. Why are you awake?”

“Come with me to the Schumacher house?” Seb begged.

The phone was silent save for the crackling on the other end of Kimi’s breathing.

“What did you just say?”

“I don’t want to go there alone because it’s facing all my worst nightmares. Come with me?”

“Are you seriously asking me to come to the Schumacher house with you?”

“Kimi, I’m getting mixed signals here. What are you saying?”

“Why do you want me to come with you, of all people?”

“Because you’re my best friend.” Seb said, not wanting to think about the death he would endure if Lewis heard him say that.

There was another agonising moment where nobody said anything, and then the faint rustle of bedsheets could be heard.

“So.” Kimi said, cool as a cucumber. “What time is our ferry?”

•

“Should I even be here?” Kimi half whispered as Seb pulled up his motorbike on the huge gravel drive.

“Yeah, I needed someone.” Seb admitted, getting off but not taking off his helmet.

If Corinna saw the injuries he sustained from his fight with Theo, he’d look like some kind of thug.

He wasn’t a thug, and he sure as hell didn’t get into fights. The last thing he wanted was to influence Mick and start him getting violent.

“I think I’ll just stay here.” Kimi said, leaning awkwardly against the motorbike.

Seb gave him a small nod and paused outside the door, hesitating and casting a glance back at Kimi.

The Finn gave him a thumbs up and a warm smile, and Seb turned back to the door, knocking twice.

“Seb!” Corinna looked slightly frightened as she opened the door. “Why have you got your helmet still on? You look like a murderer.”

“Good afternoon, Corinna.” He said, staring at his feet.

“Take off the helmet, Seb.”

“What’s the point? I’m getting back on with Mick in a second.”

“Sebastian.”

He gulped nervously before taking off the helmet.

“And the balaclava.”

Seb reluctantly tugged it over his head, shifting nervously as Corinna stared at him.

“What happened?” She asked, clearly worried.

“I got into a fight.” Before she could say anything, he hurriedly added, “but I don’t do it often, I swear. I didn’t want Mick to get the wrong idea. That’s why I wore the helmet.”

She hugged him, and Seb was unsure how to react because he didn’t know why she was hugging him in the first place.

“You’re his hero, you know that?” Corinna said. “Mick absolutely adores you. He wouldn’t see you as some thug, even if you showed up looking like Frankenstein.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, I’ll call a taxi because not all three of you can fit on the motorbike. Hello, Kimi!”

Kimi gave her an awkward wave and smiled at Seb.

At that exact moment, Mick skittered down the stairs and, without a care in the world for his face, threw himself at Seb in a hug.

“Hey, Mick.” Seb smiled when he saw that Mick had his motorcycle helmet in hand. “Bad news, buddy. We’re taking a taxi because I have a special guest.”

He nodded over to Kimi, and Mick’s eyes widened.

“Oh my god! That’s Kimi Räikkönen! Is that Kimi Räikkönen? That’s Kimi Räikkönen, isn’t it?”

Seb chuckled softly at how excited Mick was.

“Yep. That’s Kimi Räikkönen.”

Mick bolted down the steps and started drowning a bewildered Kimi with questions.

“You made his day.” Corinna said. “He loves Kimi.”

“Thought he would.”

“Is there anything going on between you two that I should know about?” She raised her eyebrows.

Seb was lost for words. Was he really that indiscreet about how he felt?

There was no lying to Corinna. She could already tell by the look in his eyes.

“Just don’t tell him.” He muttered.

Corinna grinned triumphantly in such a way that it made Seb feel a little bit unsafe.

“No promises, Seb. No promises.”

Chapter Text

“That’s it.” Seb said, ripping off his balaclava and tossing it beside a nervous Jenson. “You need to tell him. This is becoming ridiculous.”

“I’m scared, Seb, I love him and he’s not going to get over this for a while.”

“Then screw him, for god’s sake, Fernando should love you regardless of your choice! He should want what’s best for you!”

Jenson chewed his thumbnail, pacing back and forth.

“Okay, then. I’ll tell him.”

“Amazing.” Seb said, pulling down his race suit so that he was in his fireproofs. “Go on, then.”

Jenson trudged over to Fernando, who gave him a bright smile.

“Hey. You okay? You look a little pale.”

“Uh, Nando, just come with me for a moment, would you?”

The Brit lead him over to the McLaren garage and Seb gestured for Lewis to follow.

“Alright. What is it?” Fernando leaned against the wall, expectant.

“Nando…” Jenson looked on the verge of tears, and Seb felt bad for forcing him to do this. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah.” Fernando’s forehead creased in confusion. “I do. Where are you going with this?”

“And you know that whatever decision I make in life, that’ll never change?”

“Jenson, you’re killing me here! I’m scared, just tell me what’s happening!”

“I’m retiring!” Jenson blurted, clapping his hand over his mouth as soon as he said it.

He looked like he regretted everything, like he wished he could take it back.

Fernando stood there in shock, frozen to the ground.

Nobody even dared to breath. The distant chatting of reporters faded into the background as the Spaniard opened and closed his mouth like a fish.

“What?” He all but whispered.

“I-I’m sorry, I just can’t stay in this sport anymore! I have to be with my family. After my dad’s death, everything’s falling apart. They need me. And I can’t stand it here anymore.”

Fernando still didn’t say anything. He fixed his gaze on a point just above Jenson’s shoulder, avoiding eye contact.

“Nando…” Jenson was crying, realising this was all going wrong. “Say something, please! Anything!”

“Why would you do this?” Seb flinched at the sheer venom in his tone.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered through his tears. “I’m so sorry. But I just can’t do this anymore.”

Fernando didn’t wait any longer. He turned and left, leaving Jenson to rub his forehead, sniffling slightly.

“Jense…” Seb tried carefully. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t’ve made you do that. This is my fault.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Seb.” Jenson said, looking at his feet. “It’s my fault.”

“Seriously. You have a good reason. You’re doing the right thing. Fernando knows that. He’s just going to miss you. A lot.” Lewis pointed out.

“I need to go…” Jenson rubbed his eyes, before running after Fernando.

Seb and Lewis were left alone, still in shock.

“That was not how I expected that to go at all.” Seb admitted, Lewis nodding in agreement.

“Tell me about it. But we all knew Nando was going to overreact.”

“Yeah, but what if Fernando doesn’t come around like we thought he would? He seemed really hurt.”

“The reason why he acts out about stuff like this is because he can’t really imagine life without Jenson. They were best friends before they got together.”

“You’re right. But you know god damn well that Fernando will push him away again and again until it’s too late.”

Lewis sighed and shook his head.

“This is why I date chill people like Valterri. He wouldn’t mind if I retired.”

“Aw, you can’t retire yet! You still have a fuck ton of championships to win!”

“Yeah, you too.” Lewis nudged him, and Seb’s face fell.

“About that. I don’t think I’m going to be winning any more championships. Any more races, for that matter.”

“Why? Is Ferrari going that badly for you?”

“Two crashes in three weeks, Lewis! I’m not the driver I used to be.”

“Don’t give up hope just yet.” The Brit touched his shoulder. “After all. I want to tell people my best friend is a five time world champion.”

Seb grinned. “Am I your bestest friend?”

Lewis gave him a stern look and folded his arms.

“Slow down. Valterri is still my bestest friend. But you can be my best friend if you want.”

“Thank you, Lewis. I’m honoured.”

•

As far as Seb knew, Fernando still hadn’t forgiven Jenson a week later.

When free practice ended, Seb found the Spaniard skulking miserably outside the McLaren garage.

“Afternoon, Douchemeister.”

“Nando, please, talk to Jenson. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

The Spaniard’s gaze hardened as he threw his balaclava across the room.

“I don’t want to talk to him.”

“For fuck’s sake, grow up. He’s lost his father and that had a profound impact on his whole family. He needs to be there for them.”

When Fernando didn’t say anything, just stared stubbornly at the wall, Seb continued.

“Jenson loves you. Hell, Jenson is in love with you. He really, really cares about you and he doesn’t want you to ignore him.”

“Piss off, Vettel. I don’t need you to tell me these things.”

“I’m right, thought. You aren’t really angry at him. You’re just going to miss him.”

“I said piss off!” Not caring if he attracted the attention of the press, Nando, slammed him against the wall.

It hurt, but Seb knew that he was right and it just made Nando angrier.

Without another word, the Spaniard turned and flounced down the paddock, probably to sulk a little more somewhere over there.

“No luck?” A familiar accent sounded behind Seb.

Kimi leaned against the wall in a Ferrari shirt and jeans, smiling lightly

“None at all. I don’t know if Fernando’s mind will ever be changed.”

“Bwoah, he’s infuriatingly in love with the British one. He’ll figure it out eventually.”

“I hope so. Because I haven’t seen Jenson all week. The last time he got in a fight with Nando, it wasn’t pretty.”

Seb thought back to when he’d found the tearful wreck of a McLaren driver hiding from his best friend after he caught him with Mark.

It had been the saddest he’d ever seen the man until the previous week.

“Come on, can we do some art?” Kimi slung an arm nonchalantly around Seb’s shoulders and guided them to the Ferrari motorhome.

“Sure. But what was it you were going to tell me last week? When you said it didn’t matter?”

“I haven’t changed my mind.”

“If you tell me I’ll buy you ice cream.”

“No. I am a millionaire, Seb, I’m sure I can buy my own ice cream.”

“But I can buy you special ice cream!”

“Oh yeah? What special ice cream is this that I should know about?”

“It’s very amazing.”

“And if I tell you what it is that I was going to tell you, you’ll get me this special ice cream?”

“Yep.”

“How about…” The Finn looked deep in thought. “No.”

“Oh, come on!”

“But you know what I will do?” Kimi said with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Mhm?”

“Race you to the motorhome!”

“Kimi, that was uncalled for!” Seb yelled, trying but failing to catch up at his teammate broke into a sprint.

“Slow!” Kimi called over his shoulder, grinning.

“Piece of shit!” Seb shouted back.

“Hey, rude!”

“Maybe you should’ve anticipated that before you raced me to the motorhome.”

They ground to a halt, out of breath, and Kimi laughed, making Seb laugh too automatically.

“Hey, Seb?”

“Yes, Kimi?” He replied, leaning against the door.

“You’re an amazing teammate.”

“I know.”

Chapter Text

Seb’s twenty-ninth birthday fell on the exact day of the Austrian Grand Prix, 2016.

This was, subsequently, the worst day of his entire fucking career.

It started smoothly, as most days did. Free practice went well, better than expected.

Third, fourth, fastest. It felt better than it should’ve. His birthday was coming up, the season was coming along nicely, and things between Seb and Kimi were good.

Right now, for those few precious, glorious days, nothing was wrong.

Theo’s sneaky little ass out of the paddock for good only added to the amazing news.

Quali, he was fourth, stuck behind both Nico’s and Lewis.

Nobody expected Hulkenberg to be third fastest, but it all came crashing down on race day.

An hour before the Ferrari driver got in the car, he was passing time outside the garage when he heard someone sit next to him. Kimi.

“Happy Birthday, Teufelschen.”

“Thanks, Iceman.”

“I got you a present.” Excitedly, the Finn dug around in his pocket and pulled out a little box.

“Aw, Kimi! You do have a heart!”

“Seb, you of all people should know I’m a total Angel.”

“Oh yeah?”

Seb moved to open the box but Kimi grabbed his hand.

“In the name of earth-shattering suspense, I forbid you from opening the box until after the race.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Just trust me, Seb. If you win, it’ll make you smile. If you lose, it’ll make you smile. I don’t want to ruin the surprise.”

Kimi shot him one last grin and tousled his hair before standing up and making a break for his own car.

Seb was left to stare at the box for a little while, tracing the gold lettering with his thumb. Swarovski.

He wasn’t one for jewellery. He wore a souvenir bracelet he’d bought a couple of years ago on the occasion, but nothing else.

Then again, Kimi could probably buy him the depths of hell and Seb would still love it.

When the race finally came around, Seb gave the box to Guillame, asking him to keep it safe.

“If anything happens to it, you’re fired.”

“I’m going to assume this is a present from Kimi?”

Seb could’ve probably burned down the whole paddock with the heat in his face.

“He said not to open it until after the race.”

“Don’t worry, Seb, it’s safe with me until afterward. I’ll make sure it doesn’t get damaged.”

“I owe you double.”

“Triple if you count the coffee I bought you this morning.”

“Can that count as a freebie? It’s my birthday.”

“Alright, alright, just get in the damn car!”

In the Force India, not a soul was surprised to see Hulkenberg pushed out of the points before turn one.

Seb, however, was in for a shitty start. He was in eighth. This was not looking good.

Forcing himself to stay calm for the sake of fate turning it around, things were frozen in place until lap 32.

That was when it happened.

He felt it first, like an inexplicable feeling in the rear of his car. Then it was Guillame calling through the radio.

The Frenchman’s words were drowned out because all Seb could focus on was the fact that his rear wheel was falling apart.

In his peripheral vision, Seb saw bits of rubber flying everywhere and his brain went into panic mode.

He smashed into the barriers and the impact sent him sailing across the track and into the other barriers.

It was a wonder he didn’t get mowed down by the car behind.

Seb’s arm was a little sore, but he didn’t dare say anything except a meek apology to the team.

Trudging back to the garage, Seb didn’t feel like it was his birthday.

He didn’t feel like having a drink with Lewis, Jense and Nando in the hotel room, especially not if Jenson and Fernando were still arguing.

Even though he felt like this, he plastered the best fake smile on his face for the press interviews, cracking jokes and being his normal self.

It was exhausting. Why couldn’t these damned journalists leave him alone?

When he was done, Guillame found him, box in hand.

He didn’t say a word about the disaster of a race, on his birthday no less, just handed it to him and left.

Seb stared at it the whole way home. He almost fell flat on his face twice, but all he could think about were Kimi’s words.

If you win, it’ll make you smile, if you lose, it’ll make you smile.

Well, Seb had lost, and he sure hoped the Finn was telling the truth.

Before he opened it, he got what felt like four hundred calls from German relatives to wish him happy birthday.

Seb tried to his best to smile through them, keep his answers short and sweet and coming up with excuses to end the call.

He felt bad, knowing these people had taken time out of their day to call him, but the box; he couldn’t wait any longer.

As soon as he cracked open the velvet top, he saw a necklace and a note.

Even though he wanted to read the note, he took out the necklace first. It had a black chain and a symbol at the end, a looped square with crosses in between.

Seb liked it. As he brushed his thumb over the pendant, he picked up the note, scribbled in Kimi’s handwriting with a smiley face at the end.

Dear Seb, this symbol is the Finnish symbol of good luck, and I must’ve had all the luck in the universe to have you as my teammate. Happy birthday, thank you for always letting me win in badminton. Either that or you really are just shit.
- The Iceman :)

He almost hadn’t realised that he was subconsciously smiling so hard it hurt his mouth.

Suddenly, the anger and sadness at his birthday DNF melted away.

Somehow managing to do the clasp himself and put the necklace on, Seb tucked the pendant into his shirt and lay back on the bed.

A few moments later, he heard a knock on the door.

“Open up, Douchemeister.”

“Nando?” He swung open the door to reveal the Spaniard with a box in wrapping paper. “No fucking way…”

“Jenson wouldn’t stop talking about your birthday so I bought you a present to shut him up.”

“You two back together?”

His face hardened, and Seb didn’t push any more.

“Okay… well, thanks, I guess. Unless it’s something bad. Is it?”

Fernando shrugged and did a salute before disappearing down the hallway.

“Strange, strange man…” Seb murmured to himself, staring at the box.

He was halfway through unwrapping it when it moved. The box fucking moved.

Freaked out, Seb knew there was absolutely no going back.

He didn’t want to know what was moving of its own accord inside this thing, but he bit the bullet and tore off the last piece of wrapping paper.

What was inside, Seb didn’t expect in ten million years. Nor was he prepared for it.

It was hardly ten seconds of staring in complete and utter shock at what was inside before he bolted down the hall and into Nando’s room.

He was going to kill his rival. This was a step too far. Actually, about a kilometre too far to be exact.

The punishment for this was going to be unthinkable.

“Fernando Alonso Diaz,” he spat, seething, frothing at the mouth like a rabid dog.

“Yeah?” Nando was trying but failing to conceal his uncontrollable laughter.

Unfortunately, this only made Seb about three thousand times angrier.

Nope, this man wasn’t going to survive till the next race.

“Why,” Seb asked, furious, “why did you buy me a chicken for my birthday?”

Chapter Text

“Seb…” Kimi rubbed his temples, sighing. “Why is there a chicken in your hotel room?”

“Ask him.” Seb gave a pointed look to Nando, who was leaning again the wall, enjoying the aftermath of his antics.

“It’s his emotional support chicken.” The Spaniard said simply, shrugging and going back to playing something on his phone.

“My what?” Seb snapped, glaring at him. “I do not need emotional support. I most certainly do not need an emotional support chicken.”

“Oh yeah? Well, it’s not like I have a receipt for the damn thing, so you’re stuck with it. You’re also a multi millionaire. Get a farm in Germany and keep it there.”

Seb was about to say something, but stopped short.

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea.”

“Can we just back track to the part where Nando bought Seb an emotional support chicken?” Kimi asked, stepping forward.

“I should’ve known you wouldn’t get me a T-shirt or something like a normal person.” Seb grumbled.

“What can I say? I saw it in the pet store and it gave me those puppy dog eyes—“

“It’s a chicken.”

“And so I just had to take it home! But I didn’t know what to do with it so I gave it to you.”

“Wow. I’m honoured.” Seb said, sarcasm dripping from his words.

“Okay.” Kimi signalled for both of them to be quiet. “Why don’t we try and work out what to do with it?”

Seb looked down at the chicken, which had been minding its own business, not caring for the three men currently arguing over what to do with it.

“Look, let’s take it to the RSPCA and get it rehomed. Seems like the most appropriate course of action. It’ll fit on your motorbike, it’s small.”

“Not as small as Nando’s—“

“Seb! Focus!”

“Alright, alright, let’s take it to the nearest animal shelter.”

He picked up the cardboard box it was in and carried out out of the hotel, ignoring the questioning looks from reporters.

Seb bought a smoothie from one of the stands near the Fan Zone and strutted down the paddock, wishing he’d locked up his motorbike closer.

Mark had been talking to Nico, but stopped when he saw Seb trying to break into a run whilst holding a chicken.

“What’ve you got there, mate?” He asked with a grin.

“A smoothie.” Seb said, taking an agressive sip.

When he reached his bike, Seb turned to look at Nando and Kimi, who had been trailing behind him.

“Right. Well, see you soon. And Nando, I will have my revenge. I’ll buy you a llama for your birthday.”

“At least I have a place to keep it.”

Seb flipped him off and rode his motorcycle to the nearest RSPCA, where he walked in with the chicken.

Strangely, he almost didn’t want to let it go. Not that he’d become attached to the emotional support chicken. Nope. Not a chance.

It was just… Nando was right. It was hard to just walk past. Maybe he should keep it.

Sighing, Seb rode back to the paddock, unable to believe he’d grown attached to a god damn chicken.

“Seb. Why do you still have the chicken?” Kimi asked as soon as he was back.

“His name is Carl.” Was all Seb said, striding back to his hotel room.

“You can’t be serious! Seb, where are you keeping that thing?”

“On my farm.”

“But you don’t have a farm!”

“I do now.”

“You are unbelievable.” Kimi shook his head in wonder. “And yet you are still my best friend.”

“Did I just hear best friend?” Lewis appeared, resting his elbow on Seb’s shoulder. “Gross, is that a chicken?”

“Don’t diss Carl like that!” Seb said defensively.

“Carl? Seb. You are a grown man. And you’re emotionally attached to a chicken named Carl?”

“He’s my emotional support chicken and he lives on my farm.”

“You don’t have emotional support or a farm.”

“Well, now I have both!”

Lewis and Kimi exchanged exasperated looks.

“Just keep it away from me. I’m scared of chickens.”

“I know, that’s why I bought it for him.” Nando said.

“Wait, Nando, this was you? You bought Seb a birthday present? And it was a chicken?”

“He likes animals.”

“Not as emotional support pets!” Lewis fumed. “Besides, he has me. I can offer you emotional support, Seb.”

“Carl is better.” Seb decided, wandering back to his hotel room.

“Am I being replaced by a chicken?” Lewis yelled after him. “What can a chicken do that I can’t?”

“Actually shut up for five minutes.”

“Ooh, savage burn.” Nando grinned, loving the chaos.

“Mark my words, Seb, I will find a way to one-up that thing!”

“Mm-hmm.” Seb nodded slowly, unconvinced. “Sure.”

“Hey, Nando, can we talk?” Everyone turned around to see Jenson standing awkwardly in the middle of the paddock.

“Not right now.” Nando looked at his feet.

“Seb, can I ask why you have a chicken?” The Brit frowned.

“His name is Carl and he’s my emotional support chicken.”

“Do I want to know?”

“It was Nando’s birthday present.” Seb explained.

“I told you to get him a T-shirt.”

Nando huffed and continued playing the game on his phone.

“Is that Candy Crush?” Kimi asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“Can you do level 393 for me? It’s too hard.”

“Oh my god, stop fangirling over this stupid game!” Jenson shouted, making everyone fall silent. “I just want to talk to Fernando!”

The Spaniard looked at his feet, pretending he hadn’t heard.

“Don’t try that shit on me, mate. I’m sorry, but my family needs me right now. I had to leave.”

When Nando still didn’t say anything, trying his hardest to block it out, Jenson persisted.

“You know I love you. More than anything in the world. But I can’t do this anymore. I’m not breaking up with you. My career is at an end, but yours isn’t and you’ll have to accept that at some point. I’m leaving after Abu Dhabi, so you have until then.”

Without another word, Jenson turned and stalked back to his hotel room, leaving them in silence.

•

“That took an unexpected turn.” Lewis said, finishing his glass of wine. “I almost forgot it’s your birthday.”

“Me too.” Seb said thoughtfully, sipping his own drink.

They’d gone back to his hotel room, Nando leaving to sulk about Jenson, the Brit still nowhere to be found.

Kimi had joined them without question, most likely motivated by the alcohol.

Carl was peacefully pecking at some grain Seb had left lying around for him.

“Are you taking him to races with you? I don’t think they let chickens on planes.”

“Nah, I’ll drive to Germany. It’s not too far from here. Probably six or so hours.”

“I still think it’s crazy that you have an emotional support chicken.” Lewis sighed, shaking his head.

“You know, we should bring back Operation JensoNando to get Nando to apologise.” Kimi said.

“Oh, we don’t need to worry about that.” Seb told him. “Nando will do it of his own accord. If not, I will use physical force.”

“2016 has been hectic so far.” Lewis said out of the blue, laying on Seb’s sofa.

“Tell me about it.” Kimi downed his wine in one swig.

“I got replaced by a random Finnish dude. I then got replaced again by a chicken. It’s been a shit year.”

“Stop being salty. Carl understands. Don’t you, Carl?”

Seb recieved a cluck in reply as Carl continued pecking at the grain.

“See? You are bad at emotions. Name one time you’ve made anyone feel better about anything.”

“I make you feel better about everything. I’m your best friend.”

“Taken.” Kimi said, playing Candy Crush again.

“Kimi, I swear to god, I will actually delete that game.”

“Don’t, I just passed the hardest level!”

Seb always thought he’d be surrounded by fame and intensity when he grew older.

Instead, he was sitting in a hotel room drinking wine on his birthday comparing his best friend to a chicken.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Chapter Text

Seb was having a traditional pre-race chat with Kimi, Lewis and Nando in the hours before Free Practice for the German Grand Prix when he had an idea.

Nando had been uncharacteristically quiet the whole morning, which Seb didn’t like.

In all honesty, he preferred it when you couldn’t shut him up. It freaked him out more when Nando didn’t even look up during several opportunities to insult him.

“This is because of Jenson, isn’t it?” He asked out loud.

The conversation fell silent as all eyes were on him and his rival.

“What?” Fernando finally stop staring glumly at his shoes and locked eyes with Seb.

“Dude, it’s not hard. Say you’re sorry and save both of yourselves the misery.”

Nando gave him such a dirty look full of pure, cold venom and not a hint of joking that it gave Seb shivers.

“Don’t bring Jenson into this.”

“You know what? That’s it. Apologise to him. It’s wrong the way you reacted, and he needs to hear it. Don’t wait until Abu Dhabi.”

Fernando didn’t speak, and that was so unlike him that Seb almost begged him to say something horrible to him.

He was desperate to hear the Spaniard belting out the worst insults known to the English language, to scream his throat sore.

But instead, he turned and walked briskly in the other direction.

“That guy can be moody sometimes.” Kimi said, sipping his water bottle.

“Yeah, what’s with the flouncing everywhere?” Lewis agreed. “I wish we could get it into his thick skull that he needs to apologise to his boyfriend and settle it.”

Seb stared after Nando, at a loss for words. He’d never seen him like this.

Normally, he expressed rage by shouting and slamming doors. You couldn’t really miss the sight of an angry Fernando.

He was never just plain silent. That was how you knew something was terribly, terribly wrong.

•

Fernando knew what he had to do and as he stormed down the paddock, his eyes scanned the clearing for a specific person.

Jenson was taking a reflective walk around the paddock, trying to get his thoughts in order.

He’d foolishly hoped Nando would see sense and not overreact. It was ten times as painful now that his relationship was on the brink of destruction.

As he locked eyes with his boyfriend (or so he thought) Jenson felt another sharp stab of sadness.

This was the man he loved. They’d been in a committed relationship for over a year and now it was all falling apart.

Suddenly no longer desiring to take a walk, Jenson turned on his heel and headed for the McLaren garage. He didn’t expect Nando to follow him.

“Jenson, wait!” The Spaniard grabbed his arm, pleading him for just a second of his attention.

Begrudgingly, Jenson turned around, his heart shattering at the sight of the man’s teary eyes.

“Yes?”

At that moment, Fernando couldn’t take it anymore. The silently furious look in Jenson’s eyes. This was all his fault.

“I’m sorry!” He burst into tears and wrapped his arms around the Brit and sobbed into his chest. “I-I’m sorry for everything! It’s all my fault!”

Jenson snapped out of his shocked trance; Fernando never cried. Not once in the fourteen years they’d know each other, unless you counted after Mark cheated on him.

And now he was weeping into his race suit, sobs racking his body.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay…” Jenson murmured, holding him tightly.

“It’s not okay…” Nando whispered through his tears. “I should’ve been more understanding. I’m sorry. You can break up with me if you want.”

“What’s all this about then, eh?” Jenson pulled away gently and wiped the tears off his face. “I’m not breaking up with you, alright? I love you. So, so, much. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Even thought everything was fixed, Nando couldn’t stop crying.

Jenson cupped his cheeks and gently brushed away the tears with his thumbs.

“Don’t cry. I should’ve talked with you about it beforehand, so I’m to blame as well. It’s okay, Nando, I’m here and I always will be. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Nando managed a weak chuckle as Jenson kissed his forehead and wrapped him in another hug.

Honestly, Jenson felt bad. If this was what Nando had been harbouring all this time, then maybe he really should’ve discussed it first rather than blurting it out.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Nando admitted, resting his head on Jenson’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to leave you.” Jenson agreed. “But I have to, love. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay.” Fernando’s voice was muffled slightly by Jenson’s race suit. “I understand.”

Nando may have hated Seb with a burning passion, but he was right.

Talking to Jenson made everything a whole lot better.

•

By the time Nando returned an hour after FP, Seb was beyond relieved to see him looking a lot happier.

“I made up with Jenson.” He said proudly, strutting into Seb’s hotel room (which was full of Lewis and Kimi) and dropping down onto his sofa.

“Fucking finally.” Seb was tuning his guitar, pretending not to care when, in reality, he was happy for them.

“Yeah. What did we tell you?” Lewis inspected his immaculate fingernails.

“For once, the idiots were correct.” Kimi was playing Candy Crush on his phone. Seb smacked his shoulder.

“Shut up, Iceman, it was your idea too!”

“Teufelschen.” Kimi shook his head and went back to playing.

“Teufelschen? What does that mean?” Nando asked.

“Kimi, what have you done?” Seb stared in horror as a diabolical grin spread across Nando’s face.

“It means little devil.” Kimi said smoothly.

“Kimi-Mattias Räikkönen, I swear to fucking god, I’m going to get you back for that and you will regret it.”

“That’s what you say every time.” The Finn pointed out.

“Alright, Teufelschen, what were you playing?”

Seb glared daggers at him. “Well, I wasn’t playing anything. Something in particular that you want to hear?”

“What about that one by Oasis?”

“Wonderwall? Nah, I don’t wanna play that, it’s cheeesy.”

“Can it be my present for getting back with Jenson?”

“Nando, I wouldn’t give you a present if you won a Nobel prize and you know it.” Seb said.

“I agree with Nando, you sing the lyrics in a good key.”

“You can sing?” Kimi asked incredulously. “I have to hear this.”

“Nope.” Seb set down his guitar. “I don’t really sing anymore.”

“Bullshit.” Lewis said. “C’mon, just play Wonderwall once.”

“Listen to it on Spotify.”

“Aw, please can I hear it?” Kimi begged, an innocent look in his eyes.

“Ugh, for someone with no soul, you have annoyingly good puppy dog eyes.”

“Ha, it worked!”

“Fine. You hear me sing once and only once. Got it?”

“Affirmative.”

Seb picked up the guitar and played swiftly, only up until the first chorus because the looks from Kimi were burning into his skin.

He hadn’t sung in years. In fact, he’d fallen out of practice around the last couple of months because of the conundrum with Ferrari.

God, that place really was a graveyard for once-talented drivers.

After he was done, Seb set down the guitar and stood up to grab some water.

The room was silent, and when he turned around, everyone was staring at him.

“I forgot the one thing you aren’t shit at.” Nando said quietly.

“You could’ve made it as a musician.” Kimi commented.

“Ha, yeah right.”

“No, I’m serious. That was really good. Puts Liam Gallagher himself to shame.”

Seb blushed. He’d almost forgotten that he was in love with his teammate.

“Thanks. Anyway, I’m headed to Heppenheim after the race on Sunday, you guys coming?”

“I’ll be there.” Lewis said, not looking up from his phone.

“Sure, why not?” Kimi nodded, agreeing with Lewis.

“Fine.” Nando snapped. “But only because Jenson will be there. And I love Jenson.”

“Oh, we know, Fernando. We know very well.”

Chapter Text

The five of them were sat in Seb’s living room in Heppenheim and drinking German beer (to Kimi’s annoyance) when Lewis had the idea.

“Hey, Jenson, why don’t the five of us go on a road trip in honour of your retirement?”

“Uh, say what?”

“I mean, I know you’re tying to get away from cars. That’s sort of the point. But like, seeing as we’ll probably never see you again, it’s worth one last holiday, right?”

There was a long silence. They’d been deep in conversation about something, but nobody had anticipated this proposal.

“When?” Jenson asked. “After Abu Dhabi?”

“What, so you actually want to do it?”

“Yeah. I mean, one final roadtrip with my boys isn’t gonna hurt, right?”

Seb winced at the word ‘final’. This would be his last couple of races with one of his best friends.

The reality had finally sunk in. Jenson would be leaving. Their time was coming to an end.

But it was beyond clear that the person it struck hardest was Fernando.

Despite having returned to his normal self (to Seb’s disappointment), Nando hadn’t left Jenson’s side since they’d made up.

It was almost as if the Spaniard expected him to dissipate in his arms, like retiring would wipe his existence off the face of the earth.

For the first time, Seb felt a little bit bad for him. If Kimi left Ferrari, he’d be pretty hurt, but that wouldn’t compare to what Nando was feeling.

“I still can’t believe you’re retiring. It feels strange.” Fernando said, leaning back on the armchair and sighing.

“Do you want to talk to Carl about your feelings?” Seb nodded over to the chicken with a grin.

“No, fuck off, Carl.”

“Hey, don’t talk to Carl like that! He’s my emotional support chicken!”

“Then I hope Carl burns in hell.”

“Say that to my face, Alonso.” Kimi said in that eerily cold tone of his.

There was another long silence in which Nando said nothing.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Hey, speaking of, are you down for the roadtrip, Kimi?”

“Nah, Jenson needs time with his friends.”

“But you’re one of Jenson’s friends too.” Nando said, before adding, “please come, or else Seb will get tired of being the only stupid person there.”

Seb promptly threw a cushion at him, blushing a little too hard for his liking.

“But jokes aside.” He said to the Finn. “Jenson would love to have you there, and so would the rest of us.”

“You really aren’t going to get off my back until I say yes, are you?”

“Nope!”

“Alright, then. Consider me convinced. I’ll come.”

“Ace!” Lewis grinned. “Now, I feel like we should leave it to the man himself on where to go.”

“Well.” Jenson flushed slightly. “I guess we’ll go back to England after Abu Dhabi, and then… we could go to France?”

“Interesting. Why?”

“There’s no track there, and I haven’t been since a family holiday when I was four, so… I’d like to revisit.”

“We can make that happen. Roadtrip to France, everyone!”

All the people in the room cheered, save for Kimi, who just smiled mischievously and sat back on the sofa.

“Well, I’m heading back to the hotel to pack for the flight.” Jenson said. “Nando, you coming?”

The Spaniard leapt to his feet and tagged along with Jenson as they headed out to the hallway.

“Me too. See you both.” Lewis waved and jogged after them, leaving Seb and Kimi alone.

“You going with them?” Seb asked, finishing his beer and throwing it with terrible accuracy into the bin.

“Can’t be fucked. Can I stay here? Please?”

“Fine.” Seb tried to maintain a serious face but broke into a grin. “And thank you for coming on the roadtrip.”

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“And thank you for this.” He pulled the necklace from under his shirt and held the pendant in his palm.

Not even the sun could compare to the warmth on Kimi’s face when you saw it.

“You’re wearing it! Did you like it?”

“It’s amazing. I spent an hour arguing with Guillame because I didn’t want to take it off for races.”

Kimi chuckled softly and stretched out on the sofa, sighing and staring at the ceiling.

“This year has gone by fast. We’re over halfway already.”

“Tell me about it. It looks like Nico’s gonna win the championship. Don’t wanna be around when that bomb explodes.”

“You think Lewis will react badly?”

“Badly? It’ll be a miracle if the paddock is still standing.”

“He really hates Nico that much, huh?”

“Yep. Still not over the breakup. It hit him pretty hard.”

“I can imagine.”

They were silent for a long time. Kimi was on his third beer, but Seb decided not to comment.

Apparently, he’d had his awakening and realised that German beer was goated.

“Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot. I’m listening.”

“If you had to date anyone on the grid, drivers only, who would you choose?”

The question took him by surprise. Nothing really prepared anyone for something like that.

“Has to be a driver?” Kimi nodded, and Seb racked his brain for anyone.

Of course, the actual answer was Kimi himself. But god forbid he find that out, ever.

No, even though Seb was a little beyond tipsy, he would not confess to Kimi if it was the last thing he ever did.

“Meh, maybe Lewis. I know him best after all.”

“Aw, not me?” Kimi grinned playfully at him. It was a joke, and yet it caught Seb completely off guard.

His throat ran dry. The blood froze in his veins. He had no reply to that, so he forced a smile and said,

“You’re not my type.”

He’d meant for it to come out as a joke, but the look on Kimi’s face made him regret the words immediately.

The smile faded from the Finn’s face as he cleared his throat and looked down at his immaculate trainers.

“Oh.”

Seb wanted to believe that there was actual disappointment in his eyes, but he knew Kimi didn’t care.

Nervous about the tension that spread over them, Seb chucked a cushion at him.

“Stop looking depressed.”

“This is my resting bitch face.” Kimi replied, making Seb laugh slightly. “By the way, what are those?”

He nodded over to some leather-bound books tucked behind the TV.

“Photo albums.”

“Can I see them?” He asked, flashing those damned puppy dog eyes at him.

“Alright, go on.”

He grabbed them and sat back down on the sofa, opening it to a random page.

Seb nearly choked on his beer at the couple of low-quality photos on the page.

“Is that you… smoking a cigarette?”

“Um. Maybe.”

“Seb, I didn’t know you smoked!”

“Well, I don’t anymore. That was the boat party I told you about. I was about eighteen. I used to smoke because it made you look cool but I gave up because I didn’t want the FIA thinking I was some kind of thug.”

“Jenson smokes like a chimney and nobody thinks he’s a thug.”

“You know what I mean.”

Kimi turned the page, and there were about five loose photos of Seb with a guitar on stage, other people with various instruments around him.

“Wait… did you play in a band?”

“Yeah. When I was younger. We broke up, though. Didn’t do much.”

“What was the band called?”

“Double Helix. That’s what it roughly translates to, anyway.”

“Holy shit, is that Evan on the drums?”

“Yup. That’s actually how we met. We used to practice in my garage when we were really young.”

“You know, you guys should get back together and do something.”

“Are you nuts? The internet would have a fit.”

“C’mon, it’d be cool.”

“I swear, Kimi, your old age is getting to you.”

Kimi responded by hitting Seb over the head with the last remaining cushion, to which Seb decided to hit him back.

This turned into a full-blown pillow fight which ended with the beers spilled all over the carpet and both of them laying breathlessly on the floor.

Seb rolled over so that his face was inches apart from Kimi’s and gave him a signature smile.

“Well. I’m going to bed.”

“It’s like, eight.”

“Yeah? And? I’m tired.” Seb stood up and made for his room.

“Tsch. And you call me old.”

“That statement is not even justified a response. Go to bed.”

“Okay. See you in the morning, Teufelschen.”

“Later, Iceman.”

Chapter Text

“And then he said I wasn’t his type!” Kimi said loudly, face buried in the pillow of his hotel room bed.

It was shortly after the Free Practice of the Malaysia Grand Prix, and Kimi, Valterri and Antonio were all crammed into the former’s room, listening to him rant about Seb.

“Doesn’t mean it’s necessarily true.” Valterri pointed out, stretched out on the sofa.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, think about it. Would Seb, knowing Seb, our Sebastian Vettel, actually tell you that you’re his type?”

Kimi mulled over the question for a few moments, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“I suppose you’re right. But he didn’t seem to be joking.”

“He thinks you’re straight.”

“I am straight, Val.”

“Kimi, how many times? As soon as you become an F1 driver, every straight thought you’ve ever had goes right out the window! Isn’t that right, Tonio?”

“Yup.” Tonio was playing something on his phone, probably Temple Run again.

“Man of few words, aren’t you?” Kimi commented, staring at him.

“You’re one to talk, Kimi.”

“Back to my initial dilemma. What if he really doesn’t like me?”

“Impossible.” Valterri stated. “He’s head over heels for you. I don’t see what the issue is with just confessing.”

“You don’t understand, he’s special to me. I can’t risk losing that.

Valterri sighed and looked up at the ceiling, arms folded over his chest.

“Well. You could always start by dropping subtle hints and seeing how he reacts to them?”

“Subtle hints?”

“Yeah. Like, the odd bit of hand brushing here and there, maybe a little more physical contact.”

“When did you become such a guru on relationships?”

“I have a boyfriend too, you know.”

“Speaking of, you never told me how things with Lewis are going. So? Spill the tea!”

“Okay, firstly.” Valterri rubbed his temples, a light frown on his face. “Never use that phrase ever again. Secondly, things with Lewis are very good. He’s clearly still not over Nico, but I trust him to be faithful.”

“He’s gonna flip his shit when Nico wins the championship.”

“I figured. But I don’t think either of them were happy in their relationship. Besides, they’re both competitive as fuck. Lewis and I aren’t in similar level cars, so there’s no competition. He and Nico are exactly 50-50.”

“That makes sense.” Kimi said, shifting so that he was laying on his back.

“Guys?” Tonio set down his phone on the coffee table and stood up, catching the attention of the other two.

“Yeah?”

“I have some news. Big fucking news. So listen closely.”

Kimi perched on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees. This was the most Tonio had ever said at once.

“So. I’ve had some words with Monisha, and I have a seat in F1 for 2019.”

“No fucking way.” Kimi jumped to his feet immediately. “Tonio, that’s great!”

“Yeah.” He picked up his phone and unpaused temple run.

It never failed to amaze Kimi how Tonio could casually drop what was possibly the biggest life achievement and just go back to playing video games.

“Well. See you in 2019, I guess?”

“Nah, I’m sticking around ‘till then. I kind of like it here.”

“Amazing. Proud of you, Tonio.”

“Thanks.”

•

Seb had been trying to get some peaceful sleep, but the never-ending stream of notifications coming from his phone were keeping him up.

It was mainly just the group chat of him, Lewis, Jenson and Fernando having some stupid conversation about whether or not zebras were black with white stripes.

Nando: you guys are so fucking stupid

Lewis: HoW fUcKiNg DaRe YoU

Nando: Not Jenson. Jenson is amazing.

Jenson: <3

Nando: anyway as I was saying. Zebras are white with black stripes and you’re all delusional

Lewis: Google begs to differ

Nando: I DONT FUCKING CARE WHAT GOOGLE SAYS

Nando: IM RIGHT YOU SALTY BITCH

Seb: shut up I’m trying to sleep.

Lewis: what’s your take on this discussion, Seb?

Nando: Seb’s opinion doesn’t matter.

Lewis: Take that back or I’ll defenestrate you.

Nando: you’ll fucking what mate

Lewis: It’s fancy talk for ‘I’ll yeet you out the window’

Jenson: Yeeted or yote?

Seb: don’t start that again, please

Lewis: Let’s ask someone sensible about this zebra debate

Lewis added Kimi to the group chat

Kimi: ugh why am I here

Seb: That’s what we all think about life, Kimi

Kimi: aw Seb is here

Kimi: hi Seb

Nando: Nobody cares

Nando: are Zebra’s black with white stripes or white with black stripes???

Kimi: igdaf

Kimi: bye

Seb sighed and silenced his phone, burying his face in the pillow.

He really needed someone to talk to, but Jenson and Nando weren’t really an option and Lewis had his own relationship struggles.

Seb’s feelings for Kimi were growing at a faster rate the closer they became.

Things were going to get serious soon, and Seb had a feeling it wasn’t going to be a pretty scene.

Scrolling through his contacts, he decided to give Evan a call.

They’d grown up together, but after Seb became more serious in motorsport, they’d falled out of touch.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t have a small crush on Evan during his childhood, but those days were behind him.

“Hello?” Seb smiled at the crackly voice on the other end.

“Hey, Ev.”

“Seb! How’s things? Haven’t seen you since that holiday with your boyfriend.”

“Not going to comment on that.”

“C’mon. Admit it. You like him a little bit.” The other German teased.

“A little bit? I regret to inform you that I’m unfortunately in love with him.”

“Wow, spoiler alert. You’re not discreet.”

“What?”

“Dude. The two of you act like an old married couple. No wonder people mistake you for boyfriends.”

“Seriously? Fuck.”

“Oh, don’t worry, he totally loves you back.”

“What are you, psychic?”

“No. But I do feel like gauging my eyes out with a fork every time you pretend to be platonic or whatever the fuck.”

“Not helping.”