Work Text:
2015
“And he’s won it again! Lewis Hamilton, you are the World Champion! Great job, excellent race, congratulations to Hamilton,” yelled the commentator, full of energy and excitement.
It felt unreal. Despite the fact he had already won it last year, he felt no less proud of his accomplishment–winning the championship twice in a row. Lewis felt full of victory and accomplishment–a deep sense of pride yet guilt filled his soul. It's undeniable that he was overjoyed with his win, but Lewis couldn't help but only think about his teammate, someone who was a little, no, much more than a friend to him. How badly was this going to affect their relationship? Surely, the impact won't be that bad, right?
Despite getting P1, Nico felt severely disappointed. His hard work resulted in second place in the championship, which is practically nothing. Unfortunately, he still had to maintain a smile for the cameras. His bright smile masked his inner turmoil perfectly. No one could have known about the anger and fury boiling up inside of him. He may have won the race, but Lewis won the championship. It felt humiliating. It felt like a waste of effort. Never has a win felt so meaningless to him. Standing on the podium, holding his trophy up, all he could think about was how Lewis had beaten him. He couldn't even bear to glance at his teammate standing next to him. The crowd’s cheering felt muffled out. It felt like one of those parties where everyone is moshing or whatever while you kind of just stood in the middle of it alone with a drink in your hand.
Once the post-race celebrations were over and most people were gone, the two drivers took a short walk around the circuit in silence.
“I’m sorry,” mumbled Lewis.
A desperate attempt to break the tension between them.
It took everything in Nico not to lash out with borderline violence. He responded in a dangerously calm voice, “It’s whatever, I guess.”
The street lamps flickered.
Lewis stopped walking and turned towards his teammate, staring into his eyes. This moment feels familiar, as if this has happened before, only with less tension. In any other circumstance, both men would've melted into each other.
This time, it was only Nico’s seething anger barely being concealed.
“Please don't hate me,” said Lewis, still maintaining eye contact.
Nico chose not to reply. Instead, he cast the British man one last glance before walking off. He couldn't do this. It was way too much. It was way too soon for whatever this was. Lewis chased after him, eventually catching up and grabbing Nico’s shoulder.
Shoving his teammate off, Nico stated, “Fuck off, I don't want to see you.”
Lewis' eyes spoke volumes about how he felt and begged, “Nico, just talk to me.”
“No! You wouldn't get it. You never fucking do. You don't ever try to understand me on a deeper level. You only say bullshit to console me then go back to normal as if I don't feel insecure as fuck about myself. It's as if you just want to rid yourself of the guilt instead of make me feel better. You don't understand how inferior I felt when I realized I got beaten twice in a row by my best mate—someone who didn’t even have half of the privilege I did, someone who had a million times the disadvantage I did. You cannot possibly understand the disappointment and shame I feel towards myself right now. You don't understand how much regret I felt knowing I could've won if only I had pushed harder. You have no idea and you don’t even care to know.”
“Nico, please, that's not fair. I worked hard for it too. You don’t think I’ve been stressing over this everyday? You're not the only one who wanted to win it, you know? Everyone did. It's every driver’s greatest dream. I knew you’d react like this, I just hope you wouldn’t have. I don't want this to affect us. I don't want things to change between us, you know that right? You can't just end our friendship” replied Lewis, who was clearly desperate and deep down he prayed and prayed, hoping that this wouldn't end badly.
“Oh, so I’m the selfish evil bad guy now? Listen, Lewis, I’m happy for you, I really am, but I can't help but feel like this. I can't help but feel invalid for being upset and envious when my best friend just achieved something so wonderful. I don't wanna see you right now. Just leave me alone.”
“Please, Nico, baby, I’m sorry–”
“Fuck you and your apologies. I don't care. I’ve said it before. You never try to understand me on any deeper level. All you do is spout bullshit sweet-nothings to get me soft and emotional then ignore whatever just happened. I’m done with it. This is over.”
“You know what? Well, fuck you too. I worked for this shit. I deserved it. I'm not letting you guilt trip me anymore every time you're mad that I accomplished something and you didn't. Let me know when you finally grow up Rosberg.”
The two drivers departed, going their separate ways.
They returned to their rooms, obviously to sulk and get ready for the celebration.
Lewis Hamilton was still in disbelief. It ended the exact way he knew it would yet he still felt a sense of disappointment and suffering. He felt like someone was stabbing a knife into his heart multiple times and the pain would never stop. He hoped day and night it wouldn't come to this, but it still did. Lewis couldn't bear the fact they weren't “friends” anymore and whatever they had simply vanished in a few words. Admittedly, he would've moved heaven and earth, broken multiple rules the FIA would have his license revoked for, and basically anything if it meant Nico would speak to him again. He couldn't take it anymore and gave in to his impulsive thoughts, walking towards his teammate’s hotel room which was a few steps away.
He pressed the doorbell quite hesitantly, half-hoping the German wouldn't answer just so it’d be easier to walk away again.
Unfortunately, the blonde opened the door, standing awkwardly.
Lewis gestured for himself to be let in and Nico opened the door slightly more. He simply melted into the other driver's body and held him. Nico was standing still, not being sure how to react.
Unsurprisingly, Nico pushed Lewis away.
“Don't hold me like you know me,” muttered Nico. He knew it would have been best if he had just shoved the other man out and slammed the door in his face, but deep down, his feelings could not allow that, it was simply against his nature to be so cruel towards someone he still loved. However, he would rather burn forever than endure this any longer.
2016
During this season, Nico Rosberg truly drove his heart out. As a result of his efforts, he had finally won a championship.
Unlike last year, he got P2 while Lewis got P3. He had won the WDC. His dreams have been fulfilled.
On the podium, he could sense Lewis’ gaze lingering on him every few moments. He didn’t look back, choosing to ignore the ethereal sight beside him; however, he could sense the emotion it held— both love and hate.
At that moment, Nico simply wanted out. He wanted away from the chaos and negativity involved in Formula 1, partly because Lewis was in it.
He wanted a ticket out of his teammate’s heavy gaze and this carousel of uptight.
December 2, 2016
In an interview, Nico stated what he's been thinking about for quite a while. He wished to retire because he felt that he had cut off everything in his life that wasn't racing. He had cut off his everything–his Lewis. He didn’t answer to the interviewers the full reason for his retirement, though; he simply couldn’t bear to imagine Lewis knowing this information.
2017
Everyone and their mum knows Nico died slow, haunting the narrative everywhere. Despite being rather inactive on social media, Nico is still mentioned frequently in discussions involving the disaster of a secret relationship he had with Lewis. It was way more than difficult to let everything go.
Seeing his ex-teammate become a seven-time world champion was exhilarating rather than envious as it had been almost a decade ago. Occasionally, he wonders if he’ll ever truly get over it. He wishes he could reconcile and they could go back to what they were. Unfortunately, Nico knew better than that. He knew they were unhealthy–toxic, even. It was best for them to stay away from each other for a while.
Thinking about Lewis Hamilton felt like running through the halls of a haunted home. Each happy memory felt like a stab and each bad one felt like the knife being pulled out. The cycle repeated itself over and over again. Lewis Hamilton–his golden boy– shined a light on his home. It was magical what they had. The nostalgia was killing Nico. Each reminiscence of their past relationship was killing him. What would've happened if they hadn't ended it that day? What could've happened if Nico just sucked it up and didn’t “crash out” like that at Lewis? Nico thought they were sold.
Abu Dhabi Grand Prix - 2025
Nico appeared at the final race of 2025. He tried his very hardest not to look at the driver with the number 44, but God was it hard to avoid the other man’s beautiful eyes, flawless skin, and gorgeous dreads; everything about him was so beautiful and simply impossible to look away from. Though standing at a reasonable distance away from Lewis while the grid took a group photo on the road, the German could not help but let his eyes follow his former teammate.
While walking around the circuit, an interviewer approached him, asking about him and Lewis.
“No- yeah, I would like to be friends with him again. Lewis was… an amazing friend and I wish it hadn't ended like that for us,” Nico trailed off during the Q&A, “He still sends my kids presents and stuff y’know? So that's a good sign I suppose.”
Nico sighed. He wished he could end this. He wished he was strong enough to do so.
The resentment he felt in his stomach was indescribable. He needed to stop this. He needed to stop dragging this Lewis thing out. He knew it would be for the better.
“That’s nice, let’s see… What’s a song you would recommend for Christmas, seeing as that’s in two weeks?” asked the interviewer.
Nico’s mind immediately went to a specific song which vividly reminded him about the times where he and Lewis were friends, teammates, childhood buddies, rivals; everything but lovers. He momentarily zoned out and looked off into the distance before answering, “Yeah—um— it’s not very, uh, festive, as you might hope for but it’s one of my favourites, actually. It’s called ‘Merry Christmas, Please Don’t Call’ by the Bleachers.”
Nico averted his eyes away from the man—just for a moment— and looked into the camera, vaguely implying who the song was aimed at.