Chapter Text
James coped with what happened by throwing himself head-first into his driving.
He took advantage of the free practice, the track, he was there before everybody else was. He made sure to immediately fly into whichever country was hosting the next grand prix, even if it was the start of a break that was a few weeks long.
He was constantly busy, occupying himself relentlessly until his movements, words and racing became mechanical, practiced and perfect.
It was the hardest he’d ever been on himself, and all of this because he was scared.
He was so unbelievably afraid. The relationship between him and William Lenney had been near perfect, had been amazing at the start, but then the fear (and then reality) of being outed was suddenly slammed down on him after everybody discovered their relationship. The memory of being outed without his knowledge, consent or permission, the fear of being discovered in such a way had been validated by the fact that it had actually happened.
Fear wasn’t something he felt often, which only heightened the intensity of which he felt the emotion.
He wasn’t humiliated, not really. He wouldn’t feel humiliation for trying to seek a stable relationship. He was just constantly upset about how everybody found out. He’d been scared of judgement for his identity his whole life, which is exactly the reason why he shut it out, pushed it down and tried not to drown in it.
So, driving it was. He drove to block it out, the noise of his thoughts and the constant mourning of a relationship that had been practically perfect before he had to go and ruin it. Before the press, the public, before everything had to get nosey about it.
James Marriott did not hate William Lenney. It was quite far from it, he loved the man, he had since they’d gotten close the first time over. And then he had to go and get weird about it, and then he had to ruin it…
Again.
Grasping onto the fact that Will had been willing to try again after the first time James ran off was near impossible for the man.
William Lenney felt some sort of resentment for the other.
He didn’t understand why James was so afraid of them, of their relationship being public. He tried as hard as he could to understand not just James’ feelings but why Will himself felt so weird about them.
James was confusing, Will had concluded. He was so confusing, and it hurt Will sometimes, but he couldn’t hate the other guy for being so complex. James had opened up to him about it once, and only once, and Will had understood a little more afterwards.
It was just so difficult not to feel any resentment towards the other for letting go of their relationship for something Will personally found so… insignificant.
Will tried not to concentrate on it, but he definitely fell deeper into it than James did. He couldn’t throw himself into racing, because that’s what James had done and he couldn't be on the track as often as James was outside of races, whether it be the actual Grand Prix, qualifying or sprint.
He fell behind on his racing, really. He didn’t take up the practice slots he should have, instead letting the Williams reserve driver take them on instead. Will was experienced, he wanted the other guy to experience it, too. He was some guy named George. Clarke, not Andrew. It was confusing having two people named George drive for Williams, although they managed.
George (Andrew, not Clarke) had cornered him one day, concerned about him and his wellbeing. He’d heard about what happened between him and James a while back, saw it on both of the twitter accounts, although figured that Will was able to manage it just fine like he always seemed to.
Will had brushed it off. He always brushed it off when it came to any conversation about James.
They didn’t speak at all after James won the championship. Abu Dhabi had gone well for James, and not so well for Will, who had finished the race eighth. People had started to pick up on the fact he wasn’t doing as well a while ago. An eighth place win during the final race of the year wasn’t the first place wins he’d get closer to the start of his career in Formula 1.
He’d been forced to watch the podium ceremony, watch the man who had ended their relationship over a few twitter posts celebrate and boast publicly about his win.
He deserved it. Will tried to be happy for him, but his smile was strained and then James had looked at him and Will swore he saw the man’s face fall.
So, Will spent the few weeks of break believing he ruined the man’s championship win by just being there. And then the pre-season testing, all of the goes around the track, he could hardly attend any of it unless required by the FIA.
James, in some weird way, was handling it a lot better than Will was in Will’s eyes. They were really quite equal in the severity of how they chose to cope despite this.
They weren’t over each other and it was shown. In how they spoke about each other, in the way they carried themselves when they were forced into proximity, even in their ways of talking that had rubbed off on each other.
Reporters pointed it out. James laughed it off.
Will avoided everything to do with James, avoided watching his interviews, avoided anything to do with McLaren. Including James’ teammate.
Don’t get him wrong, he loved Lizzie. He adored her. She was so sweet, but Will couldn’t find it in himself to talk to her on the off chance that she asked about James.
Silverstone Grand Prix was when things started completely falling apart for James. When he was finally asked, and when he finally lost it.
“James.” He’d heard his teammate chirp from behind him, and he quirked his head back to look at her
“Yes?” He kind of drew his words out, trying to seem interested in what she had. He was interested, he just hadn’t found it in himself to show it lately.
“How come you and Will went all… stingy? I know about what happened. Obviously. Who doesn’t?” She laughed quietly to herself as if to ease James’ worry. “But you never explained why.”
James had tensed. A sense of shame filled him, a shame he hadn’t felt since the day he decided to end things in a relationship that had genuinely felt like a breath of fresh air.
“Oh. We just weren’t getting on anymore.”
Elizabeth had narrowed her eyes, pursing her lips as if deep in thought. She knew James was bullshitting. She’d seen how he’d gushed about the relationship like it was his first.
“You don’t have to lie to me, you know.”
The words hung heavy. In the air, on James’ chest, a weight settled around them, the same weight James had felt constantly at every glimpse of Will.
James sighed. A deep, tired sigh, the kind that comes with anything kept pent up for too long.
He didn’t respond for a moment, trying to form the words in his mind before he spoke them. He couldn’t just tell his teammate he’d gone and ruined a perfectly fine and healthy relationship because he was scared and didn’t like the public backlash.
He was a driver for one of the most polular motorsports in the world, admitting that the backlash got to him was like some tiny, petty inconvenience for anybody in his position. They faced backlash all of the time.
He decided he’d settle for a simple answer, something like ‘I didn’t want his chances of keeping his position in Williams compromised due to improper conduct with another driver’, maybe.
“I was scared the criticism would get to us too much.” He’d blurted out, obviously not what he’d intended to say. He winced worse than Lizzie did.
“It’s not like I couldn’t handle it. I could, believe me on that one, Eliza. It’s not every day you’re outed to millions when you’ve just come to terms with… all of that stuff. The sexuality stuff. The being in love with another man stuff. It could risk his career. His reputation. His everything.”
The words tumbled out before he could stop them. And Lizzie did nothing but listen and nod, and take the words in, and she seemed patient, and she seemed content in the fact that James had opened up and it scared him.
He felt like the biggest asshole ever, and his teammate was here listening to talk about it.
“So… you broke up with him for his benefit?” Lizzie inquired, leaning forward a little.
James was almost embarrassed at being read so easily, but then he remembered he’d literally laid it out flat for the other. A huff left his lips.
Lizzie spoke again before James did. “He’d devastated, you know.”
A flash of surprise on James’ face. He schooled it quickly, turning away from Lizzie.
“Everyone can tell.”
She wasn’t trying to make him feel bad, and he knew that. But it felt mocking, it felt like a punch to his gut, and it almost made his head dizzy.
He’d been helping the both of them. He swore he had been.
“I don’t know what you want to get out of this conversation.” James responded, moving to take a step to get away from the situation.
“Talk to him.” Her voice was almost pleading, as if she could feel that same despair that seemed to only exist in both Will and James.
But he couldn’t just do that. Not this time, not again. He couldn’t just stop and talk to Will when the man definitely disliked him now.
So he walked away, and Lizzie looked almost as dejected as James imagined Will did after what happened.
He didn’t want to think about it. But he did.
He thought about it. He really did, and he couldn’t stop, and James swore he was going insane. He kept checking their messages, reading everything back, and he only felt worse. He felt way worse.
On some Tuesday, a Tuesday where there was no scheduled race due to cancellations, he got a message. He picked his phone up mindlessly, clicking onto the notification to read what was said.
He froze.
—
William Lenney
hey