Work Text:
It's the evening after.
After everything changed.
After Nico announced his retirement from Formula One without even thinking of telling him about it before he told the whole world.
His teammate. The one he had raced with the longest, the hardest. His fiercest rival. His best friend. The man he had loved for far more years than he hadn't.
Didn't he deserve to know?
A call would've been enough. He would've been satisfied with a text. Anything but this. Anything but sitting in a press conference, oblivious, and then hearing that he was being left alone.
Lewis is lying on his bed in his quiet hotel room, the only source of light his phone that's playing the recording of what had happened a mere five hours and thirty five minutes ago. He has spent every minute since arriving home rewatching it, looking for any clue that Nico had doubts. That even for a second, he was thinking about Lewis and how this decision would affect him.
But there was nothing.
He knew this man like he knew the back of his hand. Knew the meaning of every slight twitch of his eyes, knew every trace of his finger, knew every inch of his skin and his heart.
So who was the man staring back at him from the screen?
Rationally, Lewis knew, understood. The season had been hard on both of them. The constant push and pull had left marks on their already fragile relationship.
Relationship, Lewis thought mockingly. That was what it had once been, a year ago perhaps, or at the start of the season. Maybe even until Spain.
But it definitely wasn't anything now.
Ironically, Lewis remembers, it had been Nico that whispered to him in the middle of that fateful night so many years ago. 'Promise me what happens out there will never affect what we have, Lewis. I can't lose you.'
It had been a typical night. They were sharing a room and staying up later than they should be. They sat on the bed and looked out at the city, pretending they were the only people in the world.
Like there weren't thousands of eyes on them and their every word every waking moment.
And in the quiet comfort of the night, when Lewis had just turned off the light, Nico had simply leaned over to him. 'Is this okay?' And without a second thought, Lewis had kissed him - and hadn't stopped.
Only in the early hours of the morning, when it was nearly time for them to get up again and their eyes were closing between every breath, had Nico made Lewis promise.
That the racing would never affect their relationship. That they would talk, and work things out if they ever got difficult.
And Lewis had confessed 'I can't do any of it without you, I couldn't bare it. I'd rather not race at all than without you on that track.'
And it had worked, Lewis thought now, and that was the worst part.
For so many years, they had been good.
Of course they had never made any of it official, but it was enough. Lewis had been satisfied with knowing that, at the end of every day, he would go back to a shared hotel room with Nico Rosberg, his best friend. And that was all he needed.
They had supported each other, fighting for every position on track, but celebrating every podium, every win together later at night.
And it had worked.
Lewis remembered the look in Nico's eyes when he won his first championship back in '08 as if it was yesterday. The muted shimmer of envy, the glamorous glint of pride and happiness mixing together.
And Lewis remembered how that look never quite changed.
He wondered now, how he had looked at Nico just five days ago, when he lost the championship to the man he knew deserved it most.
Was there pride in his eyes?
He had certainly felt proud. Nico deserved more than one championship, and he would've been able to achieve that, Lewis was sure.
If not Nico, who else?
But it wasn't supposed to happen like this. They were supposed to work together, to fight together, to win together.
Together, not against.
But somehow, that hadn't worked out the way they had always wanted it to.
Lewis can't point out the exact moment in time that everything shifted. When Nico started standing on the top step of their shared podiums more frequently than him. When the look in both of their eyes suddenly carried anger and resentment more often than not.
There is no day he can blame, no specific race, even if asked he would've said Spain. No sole catalyst that marked the end of their relationship, their friendship.
And maybe that's why it hurts so much, Lewis thinks.
Because now he can see more clearly.
He can see that it wasn't just on his teammate - ex teammate, he silently corrects himself. Looking back now, there were a million little things he could've done differently. Should have. But there's no turning back time.
Lewis' spiraling thoughts come to a screeching halt as the realisation hits him again. It is over, truly over.
There's no saving them now.
When Nico couldn't even look at him during the press conference, he knew. All hopes he had secretly kept throughout the last weeks. Hopes, that, maybe now that Nico had finally gotten his championship, they could go back to their normal rhythm next season.
But there is no next season for them. For him, maybe, but a part of him has left the track now, so how is he ever supposed to drive again as if he were fully there? How will he go through all of it - the meetings, conferences, races - without Nico's presence always by his side? Without having someone to come to after a particularly hard day?
A new teammate, Lewis thinks, but how could anyone ever compare? How could Mercedes even dare sign someone new when Nico had given them his all for so long?
Lewis feels anger bubbling up from the depth of his heart. How could Nico dare leave him when he knew what it would do to him?
And maybe, if it were a little earlier on a different day on which he hadn't just heard that his teammate and his best friend was leaving him, he would've thought twice before taking his phone, closing the recording of the press conference which was still playing the same moments over and over again and typing in blindly the only number he knew by heart.
His call immediately went to voicemail, but then again he didn't expect anything else. Still, he can't bear to hang up. Except for the small beeping sound, it stays quiet in his room.
Then, "Nico, it's Lewis. Well you probably know that. You know, since I came back from the conference I've been watching the recording over and over again, and I keep wondering; what could we have done differently? And I'm really angry, at you and at myself, and I'm so sad, Nico. But the worst thing is, all I wanna do right now is talk to you about it. Cause who else will I talk to? You're the only one here I could ever really trust and now? Now you're leaving me? Really? Without even telling me? How...how could you do that Nico? I need you here with me, Nico, you know that. I can't bear any of it on my own. I know it's too late now, but I'm really sorry, you know? I never wanted to put any of it above us. You're the single most important thing in my life, and you always have been, Nico. I love you. And I would do anything, anything to have you with me now. Not just now, you know? Like, forever... Shit, this is so stupid, you won't ever hear this. But I realised I've never said it before, so here it is again. I love you, Nico, I love you..."
He ends the call and throws his phone across the bed, where it slides off and silently tumbles onto the dark red carpet floor.
It's all so meaningless now, Lewis realises. Nico is in a room on the same floor as he is and yet he feels worlds away.
If only anything he could do could change anything he has done. And that is the moment Lewis decides.
Decides to get up, and tie his hair back up, decides to sort his thoughts and decides that he should talk to the real Nico and not just the voicemail which the other would never listen to.
After collecting his words he stalks awkwardly to the door of his too large, too empty hotel room and opens it with a soft clicking noise.
Facing him, one hand raised in a loose fist, there is a blonde man right in front of it, with blue eyes he knows every speck of and every secret behind.
Those eyes how find his, and suddenly, every word, every excuse and explanation he had prepared in his head has slipped his mind.
There he is, looking tired and exhausted and slightly shocked, but still as beautiful as always.
"I'm sorry," Lewis says, and only once he's said it does he realise that Nico mutters the exact same words at the exact same time.
And in that moment, there is nothing holding him back. He ignores every reason he has so carefully constructed over the last few months on why this isn't what he should do.
So he pulls Nico towards him into his room, closes the door behind them and silently tugs him into a soul-crushing hug. Their bodies stil slot together perfectly, just like they always did and Lewis can't recall why he was even angry at him in the first place.
Into the crook of his neck, Nico whispers, "I heard your voicemail". And Lewis knows this can only mean two things. Considering he can currently feel Nico's thumb caressing the soft spot on his neck that only he knows about, he can only hope for the best.
"I love you too, Lewis"
At that, Lewis pulls back slightly, just so he can look in the other man's eyes. Can see the truth behind them. And he does.
He does.
At the same time, the two men surge forward. The entire season of ever-growing resentment and anger is suddenly forgotten as their lips meet. Nico melts back into Lewis' embrace. The blonde man's arms circle around his shoulders, while he places his hands on hips he thought he would never hold again.
In this moment, Lewis thinks, it's as if nothing ever happened that drove them apart.
When they stumble back onto Lewis' bed, they seem to leave every word said and unsaid, every race incident behind.
After a while, Nico pulls back ever so slightly to catch his breath and sits up straight on Lewis' lap he has found himself in on the bed.
"You think we should talk about this?" he asks the dark haired man. "Tomorrow," Lewis hisses, "We have all the time in the world now, baby."
At that, Nico rushes back down to connect their lips once again.
The occasional sound of either of them fills the silence of Lewis' once solitary hotel room just as well as the empty space that had been created in his heart upon breaking just earlier.
And Lewis feels full, whole.
And he knows that maybe, just maybe, with the man he loves back in his arms, not everything will have to come to an end.
It's the evening before.
Before everything will change.
But this time, they're doing it together.