Chapter Text
Fernando Alonso’s eyes flickered briefly towards his younger teammate.
What Lance was doing wasn’t particularly discreet but discretion had never been one of his qualities anyway, besides, it was pretty funny how desperate he looked, raising his eyebrows in his direction.
He was drinking all of his water, and actually sucking the few last drops, the slower possible. It had been on going for at the very least two minutes and a half, which seemed way too much time to drink an already half empty 500ml water bottle.
It was pretty clear that the man was waiting for him to answer the interviewer’s questions first, as to copy his answers probably.
It could have been way more funny if for the circumstances of his behavior.
Lance used to be an extrovert, had said his sister a few times ago, and Fernando couldn’t help but agree.
They were teammates since long enough and he remembered how Lance wouldn’t shut up post-race, even maybe giving a little bit too much information, and Fernando’s job was to keep him a little quieter.
He didn’t notice when his job had to shift to making him talk less about the race to talk more about it.
He hadn’t noticed enough how quiet Lance had grown and how much he began to rely on Fernando for media duties. It had been natural for him to take over and shift his ways because they were comfortable with each other and didn’t need to explain that much what they wanted.
But right now as he began answering post-race questions, the usual, like why did the car was so under-performing, what changed, conditions, all that, Fernando’s frown deepened again and again as he couldn’t help but eye a sheepish looking Lance, shifting his weight from on feet to another.
It never bothered Fernando that much but today was apparently the day his mind fully noticed the big change in his teammate personality.
He used to be an extrovert.
Right, so why was the man next to him almost radiating how much he wanted to be everywhere but here? Thinking of it, when was the last time Lance talked before him in interviews?
They filmed content with Aston Martin yes, but always against the man's will and basically never about racing anymore.
As he was finished talking, Lance’s turn came up and he shot a hopeful glare at Fernando, maybe hoping that the man would say something like “welp, we’re going now” like he did a few races before, and that hadn’t been the only time.
Not this time though and Lance looked in his desperately empty bottle, maybe wishing water would appear out of nowhere.
Five agonising minutes later, they were finally finished with media duties and were all done.
Fernando really wanted to put his odd behavior on their finishing places, P16 and P19, but they were almost used to that as well, and these reactions weren't ones of deception and anger about the race.
It bothered him. And that sentence he kept replaying in his mind, Lance once was an extrovert.
Why didn’t he notice the changes? Now that he thought about it way more, it seemed so obvious and concerning.
Now that he thought about it more and more, Fernando was unable to shake off that feeling that he needed to comfort him or simply do something about it. Maybe he didn’t need it at all and it was all a product of his mind but just in case, yes, just in case, he wanted to show Lance he could count on him.
As they were making their way back to their hotels, they had a flight early in the morning with both Haas drivers, Fernando grabbed Lance by his shoulders. The younger man wasn’t really phased as it was a normal occurrence.
“Hey, let's eat somewhere nice.” He said, not leaving room for Lance to refuse. They stopped for three minutes to take some pictures with fans then Lance rubbed his temples.
“Let’s not, okay? I’m sorry I'm just- Tired.
-We could just go grab a sandwich, if you’re more comfortable.”
Fernando watched Lance’s eyes go down, and his hands were stuffed in his pockets. He was uncomfortable with this whole situation.
He used to be an extrovert. Fernando couldn’t even get a glimpse of that younger boy that used to be so vibrant. It was weird how you could grow so accustomed with someone and how you could overlook some traits and big changes. He never saw how quiet and un-talkative he was now.
Fernando felt guilty.
He felt the need to show Lance he saw, that he noticed and that he cared about his young teammate. Friend. They were friends.
He smiled warmly at Lance, thinking it would work. The man looked up, gave him another suspicious look and then shrugged.
“Ok. If you want.”
*
They were now sitting on Lance’s hotel bed, a bag of chips between them. Fernando already finished his sandwich but not Lance, too busy talking about his last vacation, and how he somehow ended in a cat café with two cats on his lap and three others at his feet.
Fernando was listening like his life depended on it. Maybe it was, because Lance had a lot of stories to share and he wanted to know about them.
Once the boy was talking, nothing could stop him, like he couldn’t talk if he missed the window.
Now that the theory was clear in his mind, the Spanish man was actively watching and listening.
Lance shut himself from others, especially on the paddock, because of how bad the hate had been recently. Even more than the last few years. Going quiet on the media, not giving anything that haters could use against him had been a good call, smoothing the edges, not giving them the attention they seemed to crave.
Good thing maybe, but it was reflecting on his personality now.
So for Fernando, that was why Lance couldn’t stop talking when they were together and no one was around, and why he kept refusing non-obligatory meetings in places where a lot of people would surround them.
He needed to get him to open a bit more. Lance was a talkative man, he was kind and sweet and letting him bottle up everything would only cause a big mess.
Fernando finally was able to lean into the atmosphere and calm down. Lance looked happy right where he was, and he could always keep an eye on him.
Everything was fine, as long as Lance was.