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It's the first night Lewis has slept in their bed since November. The first time in weeks that Max gets to see his tired face up close, mentally cataloging the swirls of ink that run all over his body. He wonders if Lewis has missed him.
There must be something left between them, for Lewis to come halfway across the world just because Max asked him to, even after not answering his phone for a month. Still, Max wonders. Is this something they can come back from?
He and Lewis had agreed after testing that they would leave the championship fight behind on the track, but that was easier said than done. And after that finale? Max can feel his heart crawling up his ribcage to his throat at the memory of Lewis's face as he'd taken his helmet off.
It aches, not knowing what Lewis is thinking. They're always on the same page, able to read each other at a glance, but right now Max feels lost.
When Lewis disappeared after Abu Dhabi, Max thought he'd be fine. He could handle a week without the other driver. But as the days began to tick by, anxiety started to kick in and Max was forced to admit he needed Lewis on a level he would've found deeply concerning even a few months ago. And now Lewis is here, in their bed, in Max's apartment, not quite touching but close enough Max could reach out if he wanted to. He can feel his arms twitching, needing to wrap around Lewis and plaster himself to the other driver's back, tuck his face into the soft space between Lewis's broad shoulder and thick neck.
And then Lewis turns around. Brown eyes meet blue while he slowly blinks awake, scrunching his face as the little crease between his eyebrows that Max loves so much appears. He almost lifts his hand to smooth it out on instinct but lays his palm instead on Lewis's side. Max wants to press, wants to dig his hands deep down into Lewis's ribs and never let go.
"Are you alright?" Max asks, hushed. His breath catches in his throat as he finishes the question, almost afraid of the answer. He can't lose Lewis. Not now, not ever.
But Lewis meets his nervous look with a steady gaze and a not-quite smile, eyes crinkling ever so slightly at the corners, and he reaches out towards Max to pull him down, down, down.
"I will be," Lewis says, and moves Max's head to rest over his heart. Fingers sink into his hair and card slowly through the thick strands, occasionally skimming down the sides of Max's face to ghost over his cheekbones and jaw.
As he listens to the even rise and fall of Lewis's breathing, the steady thrumming of his heartbeat, Max realizes that Lewis is right. They might not be okay right now, but they'll make it through. Both of them are too stubborn to settle for anything less.