Chapter Text
"I felt good about you 'til I didn't / Crossed lines, Past lives, Clear Vision."
It was 6:14 a.m. when Nico heard the knock on his hotel door—three short raps, followed by one longer, just like always.
He didn't even need to check the peephole. Only one person knocked like that.
Nico opened the door to find Lewis standing there with two coffees and a grin that didn't match the hour.
"Tell me you're awake," Lewis said.
"No, I was fishing in Antarctica, that's why I opened the door."
Lewis handed him the coffee and breezed past him into the suite like he owned the place. Nico didn't mind. He never really had. There was something about Lewis's presence—equal parts chaos and calm—that filled a room like music you didn't know you'd been missing until it started playing.
"You smell like sleep," Lewis said, wrinkling his nose as he flopped onto the couch.
"That's because it's six in the morning," Nico muttered, rubbing his eyes as he sat beside him. "Why are you like this?"
"Jet lag. Excitement. Adrenaline. Pick your poison." "You're not even jetlagged."
"Okay," Lewis grinned, "so maybe I just wanted to see you."
Nico froze for half a second—not visibly, not in a way anyone else might notice— but enough to make his chest feel a little too tight.
He knew what Lewis meant. They were best friends. That kind of see-you. Still, it did something to him. Had been for a while.
Nico took a sip of the coffee to hide the expression that threatened to escape. "You're ridiculous."
"You love it."
He didn't reply. Instead, he looked out at the Monaco skyline from the window. The early morning light spilled over the harbor, and everything felt soft and still.
Lewis sat beside him in silence, legs kicked up, sipping from his cup like this was just another morning in a thousand they'd had. But Nico knew better. Time was already moving faster than either of them realized. There would come a day when mornings like this would feel like relics. Precious and painful.
But for now, they were twenty-something and golden.
"Remember when we were kids and said we'd race for the same team someday?" Nico asked quietly.
Lewis chuckled. "Yeah. We were so damn sure it'd be McLaren." "Life's funny."
"Yeah," Lewis said, then turned to look at him. "We made it though. Same team, just... not how we pictured it."
There was a beat—a breath between words—where something unspoken lingered.
And then, just as easily, Lewis stretched his arms above his head and groaned. "Alright, let's go for a run before Toto makes us sit in another strategy meeting."
Nico rolled his eyes. "It's still dark out." "Exactly. No fans. No press. Just me and you." That made Nico smile. He grabbed his hoodie. Just me and you.
It sounded simple.
He didn't know yet that it would never be simple again.