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“When are we going to see each other, she asks,
After a year and a war, I say.
When is the war going to end, she asks,
When we see each other, I say.”
(Mahmoud Darwish)
Barcelona is heavy on Lewis' chest, and it's not the summer sultriness only that feels like hands that are pressing him down on the mattress, preventing him from standing up to go for a run, listen to some music, call a friend – something, anything that will make his brain stop furiously working when it's late in the night and he's just won the Spanish GP and established a record and he completely deserves to have a good sleep.
I will give you a call, six words that endlessly ricochet and occupy all of Lewis' thoughts without giving him a break. Nico has said them and Lewis really doesn't want to give them any kind of meaning, blaming himself instead for actually stopping when he heard Nico calling him in the paddock while he should have just waved quickly at him and go back to the safety of his garage. Lewis has been pushing away all the chances to talk with him again, unless when absolutely necessary, since the man retired from races in 2016 – he would have also avoided seeing him, in general, but it's hard to do so when you drive for Mercedes and the other decides to accept the offer of becoming one of their ambassador, or when he starts making videos about Formula One and starts being around in paddocks and grids again, or when then he becomes a pundit for Sky, and here Lewis is sure that Toto must have prevented the possibilities for him to be interviewed by the German. And after all this effort, the one moment in which he has allowed himself to share a few sentences with Nico after years, all that he could think of was that the light blue shirt he was wearing really brought his eyes out. So much for being over him.
It's like Nico, relegated to the back of his brain and to the bottom of his heart, a dull pain that resurfaced when someone named him but nothing more than the pin of a needle, has now taken back all the territory he used to occupy in Lewis' head since they were teenagers. It took him only a little exchange of words, barely some minutes of talking, to gain his position back, like he never left (he didn't, actually).
There's still something about Nico that always begs him to come back, something louder than all the pain he felt the multiple times in which the German ripped his chest apart, something that pulls at the seams that never could close back after Nico left him for good. Nico is a mermaid, Nico is his mermaid, calling him all the time, when they meet and even when they don't, his blue-green eyes singing for him, even in his memories, an high pitched song that only the two of them know. Nico calls him but Lewis has never wanted to be ready to go back to him.
-----
Lewis takes a deep breath when he lands in London. It makes his chest hurt that it's been a long time since he actually called this city home, but in the end it's where he always ends up when he needs some days to escape from reality, from racing, from people (from Nico, even if he stubbornly refuses to admit this to himself, and it stays like an afterthought in the back of his mind, where Nico and the memories they share and the thousand thoughts he has about him are stocked, in the hope to forget them one day or the other.)
When he breathes out, his chest aches with longing. However far he can run, his baggage is always with him – there's some ancient author who said something similar. Probably it was Sebastian, the only other driver in the paddock that knows all of this story, who stayed with him when Nico left, the multiple times they fought and the time where the German actually went away for good, who told him so, quoting someone who wrote that you can change the sky you're under but not your own soul, no matter how much you run. Lewis had drowned those words and his own tears in the beers his friend always supplied him in these moments, and tried not to think about how much his relationship with Nico is perfectly described by this sentence.
London doesn't usually feels like home anymore, and still it does feel so when the longing for Nico hits hard on him and he needs to grasp onto something in order to keep breathing.
-----
Lewis doesn't remember what he's been dreaming of when he wakes up abruptly, in the middle of the night, breathing loudly and feeling like he has been drowning until some seconds before, until an unknown hand (a hand that wears a ring on his ring finger) has pulled him out of the water and of his nightmares. The clock says it's three in the morning and Lewis knows he's not going to get anymore sleep that night, not when his heart is threatening to break out of his chest for how fast it's beating. He reaches for his phone, unplugging the charger – it says only 68% of battery is full now, but he doesn't care.
He opens Instagram, scrolling through his feed without really seeing the posts, until there's a picture from the Mercedes account that stops him. It's an old one about some record established years ago that same day, there are two cars racing and the tags are of him and Nico. Of course, he snorts.
The temptation is too big to resist (and really, Lewis has been resisting for years now, since he stopped following Nico on social media – what a teenager thing to do, really, and still it gave Lewis a sense of satisfaction, and maybe that should have made him think about how him and Nico were still acting with each other like the teenagers they'd been when they first shared a kiss – and he's starting to be tired of doing it, especially now that he's tired but can't sleep), and he ends up opening his profile.
He knows that Nico has been vlogging for some years now, but he's never watched the videos, and no one at Mercedes has ever even thought of showing him one, not after having witnessed their relationship fall apart and the two pilots driving them all mad with their behaviours. Knowing how much it would hurt to see Nico doing things, anything, without him or without him being the first to know about them, Lewis has always avoided it, but all his last posts are videos and this time, just this time he tells himself he's going to have a look at them. (Just like it has been in Barcelona. Just for this time I'm going to talk to him, he said to himself, and look what's he doing now.)
Lewis blames it on the weak state of mind that he's in, the tiredness of his body and of his soul, because he can't admit to himself that he's allowing his brain to reopen the closet of the memories that he wished he had closed with a key thrown away afterwards, the one filled with some of the sweetest memories of the German. How many nights like this happened when they shared a bed, with Lewis having a troubled sleep and Nico waking up beside him, alerted by the abrupt movements of the Brit and taking care of him, carding his fingers through his hair to soothe his heart, his own body pressed against Lewis' to remember him that he was awake now and not alone, cradling him until his breath stopped being so loud and so fast.
There is something gripping his throat, really tight, something that threatens to spill and Lewis refuses to let it out, swallowing once and then again, enough times until it's gone.
He'd have more troubles doing it now, with all the braids. Idiot, Lewis thinks, drifting off to sleep, the sound of Nico's voice lulling him through the video. This is something you shouldn't even be thinking about, but in his mind he can hear Nico bitching because of his hair choices, picture his annoyed expression and how he would have kissed those lips to make him smile again. He falls in a dream where he can't grasp the outline of the figures around him, blurry shadows that dance around him, fast enough to hypnotize him – he can only make out the blue-green eyes they all have, that haunting shade of colour that Lewis wish he could forget but perfectly knows he'll never be able to. When he can see their eyes, he's not scared anymore. He knows who's with him, now.
When he wakes up again, the clock says it's 10 o'clock, and his phone is still talking with the voice of Nico guiding him through the discovery of the Melbourne GP. The battery is at 10%.
-----
It's something everyone says in this situations, so Lewis really doesn't really expect anything in the following days. I will give you a call, Nico said, the mask covering his mouth so that Lewis can't be sure if his lips were curved in his polite smile while saying it, the one that would have given him the assurance that the German was just saying it as the polite boy he was raised to be. Lewis himself has said it so many times, to so many people, because it's just something you do when you say goodbye to a person you used to spend a lot of time around but now you don't anymore, knowing it's empty words said out of courtesy.
He should know by now that Nico hardly does something because it's what it is expected from him. He has learnt the hard way that this isn't how Nico is wired, that he was raised to be a polite boy but this doesn't mean that is really how he acts. And still, Lewis lulled himself in the belief that him and Nico crossed paths by mistake in Spain and they would never have to meet again.
When he sees the notification of a message from a name that hasn't appeared on his phone for ages, his heart skips a beat.
[From: Nico Rosberg]
I wanted to invite you for a coffee, but I've seen you're not in Monaco.
Lewis shakes his head but can't hide a little smile at the thought of Nico being outside of his door in Monaco, ringing the bell maybe, or maybe checking if the windows are all closed and if he can hear Roscoe barking. Maybe one of the neighbours has took pity on him and told him that there was no one at home.
[From: Lewis]
I am in London.
It takes Nico less than a minute to answer back.
[From: Nico Rosberg]
Cool. I can come there tomorrow.
Lewis wants to tell him not to come. London has no space for Nico, Lewis thinks. London is his place, after all this years, London is where he can still be the little kid his mother loved with all of her heart, where he can be Lewis without having to be Hamilton too, where he can still be a little spoiled by his family and allow himself to forget how many people look at him as inspiration, how much stress his life puts on his shoulders, he can even forget, for a few hours, the burning feeling in all of his body of wanting to be the best, always, of needing to work towards his goal. He can be the side of Lewis disconnected by his racing one.
And that is exactly why London has space for Nico, even if Lewis tries to hide it to himself. Because Nico knows why Lewis escapes to London every once in a while, because before it all fell down on them and crushed them Nico used to take care of Lewis when he got in this state of mind, because Nico is the person with whom, so long ago now, Lewis could be Lewis without being Hamilton.
His phone lights up again. Are you still running away, it says. And Lewis is furious with those simple five words because Nico doesn't even need to specify from whom or what he is running away, and he has no right to ask him that, not at all, not after having looked at Lewis in the eyes and told him that he couldn't do this anymore, that it was destroying him and that he deserved to have peace in his life too. He even had the nerve to dry the tears that spilled on Lewis' cheeks before leaving, the Brit too shocked to react how he thought he should have done, afterwards. When Nico said that that was the best thing to do, he should have asked for whom it was, screamed at him maybe, thrown something, but especially found a way to hold Nico where he was.
I'm not running away anymore. He writes it and sends it before he can give it a second thought, before his sense of guilt kicks in and prevents him from lying – Nico is not the only one who was raised to be a polite boy, after all. He can see Nico, now, more than probably on the balcony of his house in Monaco (he didn't start following him again on Instagram, he might have had a difficult moment one night but he knows better than to do so and have his runaway in London ruined by a call from Toto asking him what happened, reminding him of how things are strained, to put it mildly, between him and the German, and especially of how he doesn't need a source of distraction as big as Nico is for him, the only person who knows exactly like him how it feels like to be the one who has to prove its worth to himself before than to the world and also the only person that knows how to touch all the exposed nerves Lewis has. He hasn't followed him again but he ended up watching his profile again the day after, and he knows Nico went back to his daughters and wife as soon as the Spanish GP was over.)
[From: Nico Rosberg]
I am landing tomorrow afternoon, 15.30. Heathrow.
-----
Nico shines, there's no other way to put it, or at least that's how it feels for Lewis' eyes. He's surely not the only beautiful man he's met in his life, and still, no one ever had the ability of charming him like the German has. There are all those little details that make Nico unique, and Lewis knows it's his ever-present feelings for him that make Nico shine so bright in his eyes. Nico and his five languages perfectly spoken, Nico who has always known which fork you have to use at a restaurant, Nico and his ability to blend in with every kind of crowd, Nico who scrunches his nose in a way that Lewis will never not find adorable.
Lewis drives him to the hotel where Nico rented a room. (They disputed over this, Lewis offering a room in his mother's house and Nico politely refusing, saying he doesn't want to be a burden for anyone – Lewis or his mother, the Brit couldn't bring himself to ask – Lewis' mother saying that at least he should come for a lunch together, Lewis mumbling something that could of couldn't have been a I'll ask him. It has been so much time since the last time she has seen him, she said, he and his Lewis used to be attached to the hip as kids and even if she hardly went to see him karting, not with the other kids to take care of, Lewis spent so much time talking to her about his friend that looked like a young prince that she'd become fond of Nico even before seeing him. He made his son happy, that was the only thing that mattered.)
Lewis doesn't really feel like closing himself among four walls with Nico, not right now, and he waits for the German to come back in the car, his sunglasses and cap on, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel. They agreed for a dinner together, but Lewis is not sure he's going to be able to eat anything, not with the knot that is his stomach now – and they haven't even talked about anything that aren't the normal pleasantries until now, Lewis asking about his daughters (the way Nico's face changed when he talked about them is a sight that will populate Lewis' dreams for the next weeks, at least), and Nico reciprocating with questions about his family too, enough to fill the silence until they reached the hotel.
-----
«I am not really sure that we should discuss it here.» They're at the restaurant Nico remembered having a great dinner some years ago and where he insisted they'd go, not that Lewis really cared about the place (surprisingly for himself, in the end he actually managed to eat). Also, Nico is right, perfectly right, considering how the last conversations between them went – even after years, the memory of the words they have thrown against each other, of the fights they had outside from the grid is still very vivid.
«We are not doing this where we are alone,» answers Lewis, knowing that Nico will get what it really means, that he can't trust himself being alone with Nico in a closed space, because they both know that the chances of ending up not talking are high – it wouldn't be the first time that it happens. They have already tried to solve their problems in other ways than talking (better, started talking and then not managing to finish the discussion), and it never worked out well, usually leaving them bruised, or satisfied with the other for a limited period of time, all their problems still very much present and looming over their heads.
Nico just nods, and takes a sip of the red wine he ordered, nice fingers curved around the stem glass that Lewis looks at when they move. «I am not asking for you to forgive me, because if the roles were switched, I don't think I would be able to do so. I am asking you to listen to what I want to tell you, what I have been wanting to tell you for years now.» It's left hanging between them that the reason behind this delay in the explanations is that Lewis has burnt all the bridges between them, Nico doesn't say it and Lewis won't acknowledge it with words.
So then he starts talking, and the thing is – Lewis doesn't need to listen to what he says, it's not like he doesn't know what he's going to say, nothing groundbreaking is going to come out of his mouth. If at first Nico's decision had took him off guard and thrown him off balance, with time he already came to understand the real reasons behind it, because Lewis too came to understand that what they were doing to each other had reached the borderline of the toxicity, more than probably crossed it a lot of times.
Nico is talking about how their relationship and their friendship too didn't survive the impact with rivalry, and Lewis already knows all of this. Their story started with them both searching for victory and greatness, their story ended with them both searching for victory and greatness. There has been a time in which, when they were alone, it used to be just them, just Nico and Lewis, until they forgot this and they hadn't been able to separate anymore themselves from Rosberg and Hamilton, and their fighting on the grid transferred to the bedroom (and the living room, and the kitchen, and the planes, and every place they could think of), resulting in the disaster that 2016 was.
If only Nico could have accepted to be the second driver. Lewis thinks this knowing that if he had done that, then it wouldn't have been Nico and it wouldn't have been the person he fell for. Lewis has spent so much time resenting Nico for what he did, for racing him to the point of madness and for leaving him without Lewis expecting it at all, that now that Nico is in front of him talking about how he couldn't take one day more of that life without having a breakdown, all Lewis thinks is that he is tired of feeling this badly-covered hatred he is forcing himself to have on Nico. They are not anymore in the situation they were in in 2016, they are not anymore the same person they were in 2016.
The German talks about how stopping from racing in Formula 1, from Mercedes, from the toxic relationship their one became, this all saved him and he doesn't regret that decision even knowing he could have achieved more.
«I don't regret ending... things between us, either. I couldn't bear to hurt you anymore outside of the grid, I didn't want to do it anymore.»
In the end, it's what the books say, no? That if you love someone you should let him go. That if you love someone, you should always want the best for him, even if it means he is going to find his happiness away from you. And Nico has found his way, he's been lucky enough to meet Vivian, even more, he's been lucky enough that Vivian fell in love with him so much that she understood that Nico wouldn't be Nico if he didn't have Lewis, Vivian who has always known about Nico and Lewis and, just like Lewis, accepted it because the man she loves is the man he is also because of this other relationship. It's funny how both Lewis and Vivian know that in the end, for different motivations, Nico will always come back to them without ever being able to let the other one go.
Lewis doesn't answer, simply because there is nothing to comment. Joining Mercedes has been the best thing for their careers, joining Mercedes has been the worse thing for their relationship. Hadn't they been Lewis and Nico, maybe they would have considered putting their relationship before racing, but then again, if they had done so, they wouldn't have been Lewis and Nico and they wouldn't have fallen for each other in a somehow perfect match.
«Really, I'm not asking you to forgive me. I just wish things could be... civil, between us.»
There are just so many things that Lewis would like to say right now. He would like to do a list of everything that he did and said and tried in order to clear his mind from the memories of Nico. He would love to open his heart and tell him that when the adrenaline of the victories wore off, every time, he found himself wishing he was celebrating the trophy with Nico. He might be tired of running away from him, but there is no point in humiliating himself and admitting just how much he would have liked to celebrate his titles post 2016 like he did before. How much he would have loved to celebrate Nico's title like they should have had, together, instead of how it went, all harsh words and tears and things unsaid that weighed them down until the breaking point.
«Guess we can work on that.» Lewis settles on the easier answer he can give, when he doesn't want to close again all the contacts with the German and doesn't see the point anymore in putting out in words how much he suffered because of Nico's decision.
He watches as Nico's lips curve upwards in a smile that is maybe not surprised, maybe the right word is that it's a relieved one, like as if he wasn't expecting too the tension to disappear, but he feels that he has conquered a little space back in Lewis' life (if only he knew just how much of Lewis still feels like it's occupied by Nico, if only.)
«I would usually invite you to have a drink in my room, but I don't think it's the right evening to ask you that, no?» offers Nico while they're reaching the car.
«Yeah, you're right.» They drive in silence for a while after that, the radio turned low and forgotten. «My mother... She would like to invite you for lunch, tomorrow. There's probably going to be other members of the family. Says she hasn't seen you in such a long time.»
The you too by Nico is left unsaid but still clearly heard. Nico considers the proposal for some seconds, eyes fixed on Lewis' face, looking for a clue of what he's thinking – he finds it harder to do it now than it ever has been, though. «Do you want me to come?»
«You surely can't handle them alone.» It's not a yes, because yes is not an answer Lewis can give him now. Nico doesn't look like he was even expecting him to say yes out loud.
-----
«I can almost imagine you going to school here,» says Nico, his eyes fixed on a point distant in time while Lewis drives him to his mother's home. «You and that bad haircut you used to have, in a school uniform, all proud of your kart successes.»
«Did you have to wear a uniform too in Monaco? Because if so, you're basically describing yourself,» and Lewis is somehow not surprised to find out he can talk about their memories lighthearted. They were definitely easier times, maybe not in general (not for him, at least) but surely for their relationship it was so. There was nothing between them that couldn't be resolved over a few slices of pizza or with their joystick in their hands; later, not even throwing stuff around and breaking objects had put a stop to their bickering, not even fucking each other could solve the constant tension between them for more than a bunch of hours.
It's like there's always a thin ribbon of hope that keeps him linked to Nico, no matter how loose this thread became during the years – it's been there since they had the courage to admit to each other that being just friends wasn't what they wanted. It became so fragile during the years, but Lewis can't let go of it. He wonders if Nico thinks the same, or if the German had been able to cut his end and put for real the word end to them. (He's here, though. He's here in London, he came here only because Lewis was here, he has no other reason for this trip and now he's entering his mother's house and Lewis doesn't know anything anymore.)
The way Nico smiles to his mother when they enter the door makes something move in his chest. It's the smile he used to wear for Lewis when they were alone in one of their houses in Monaco, it's the smile that he used to give to his daughter when he was playing with them, it's the smile he only shows to the people he considers family and the realization hits him hard, it's like the dagger Nico put in his heart when he left is being twisted but Lewis he got so used to its presence that he even forgot about its existence. Not even all of Lewis' pride, and it's a lot, can cover his emotions when Nico is still treating him like family. He turns away to hug his niece so that the German won't read on his face the storm that he's currently living inside.
Roscoe, ever the traitor, jumps up from the sofa as soon as he hears Nico's voice (not surprising, considering how much he used to spoil the dog back in the days, constantly petting him and bringing new toys so often) and runs to the German, barking happily. Nico reaches to down to scratch his ears, Lewis can't think of anything that feels more like home than watching Nico and his dog together, it's something that not even his days in London could ever match.
While Nico talks with his family, Lewis can finally take some time to study his face without it being so clear to Nico's eyes. He takes in the features he has loved so much during the years to discover that he somehow looks different – he's still the incredibly handsome man he has always been, but there's something new to him, he somehow looks younger, maybe it's just that he looks relaxed like he has never seen him, not even when they were eating pizza as teenagers in some hidden places in Italy that Nico always seemed to know. Maybe he was really telling the truth when he said that he couldn't do this anymore, he thinks, watching him listening to some incredible story about Roscoe and a dragon that his niece is telling, his shoulders relaxed and the features of his face soft. Maybe he really meant that he needed a break from the hectic life they were living and that was starting to heave too much on his nerves – between them, Lewis has always been the one who wanted to prove to himself his worth, Nico has always been the one who thought he had to prove it to himself, to his world but also to his father, no matter how many times Keke has been telling him that all he wanted was for his son to live a happy life. It was like Nico couldn't accept the fact that he would always have been only Keke's son to the world if he didn't prove them that he was able too to become World Champion.
Apparently Roscoe has killed the dragon yesterday (Lewis hopes his niece didn't spoil his dog with food for something it doesn't even know it did) and it exploded, since the kid is shouting BOOM and making wide gestures with his arms. Nico laughs and congratulates the dog (who's actually sleeping peacefully on the sofa behind him, unaware that he's the main character of a story now) and when he meets Lewis' eyes, his face stays that soft, his eyes gentle and open, his lips curved in the gentlest smile he has seen on that face since years.
-----
«If you're still up for making that offer of yesterday, I think I'll take it today.»
Lewis can only catch a glimpse of how wide Nico's eyes go at those words while he's driving.
-----
Nico doesn't turn the lights on when he enters the room so neither does Lewis, lets the only source of light be the one of the streetlamps outside, and he can see Nico's eyes glistening when he looks at him, takes a step in his direction without making a noise after having took his own shoes off. His lips look a bit chapped. Nico doesn't come any closer, but stays there waiting. To Lewis, all this moves come slow, like his brain is having troubles and making everything around blurred, and when he raises a hand to touch Nico on the cheek, the air feels solid, dense and heavy around his movements.
The space between them is very little now and it's filled with hesitation, Lewis can feel it – he can feel his own fears, while his thoughts are furiously running after each other, is it really what you want is it really worth it what are you going to do after it's Nico it's going to hurt you, but also Nico's, seemly gone is his usual boldness from his face while they stare into each other's eyes for a non measurable quantity of time. Nico takes the hand that Lewis put on his cheek and holds it, looking for a sign that he is not reading this wrong, and Lewis doesn't know what he must have seen because all he feels is confusion right now, but he must have found it, as the German leans in and presses his lips against his.
The voices in Lewis' head all turn quiet now. The kiss is all like they have always been, full of teeth, hungry, trying to take claim while at the same time Nico's hands find their way under Lewis' t-shirt and they are so gentle, caressing lightly his skin, as if compensating the anger he's pouring in the kiss. It's Lewis who pins him against the wall, suddenly in a rush of ripping everything that Nico is wearing apart, to have him in front of him Nico and not Rosberg, after all this time. He fumbles with the button of his shirt, too impatient to really care about opening them properly, and when he manages to open the fly of the trousers he's wearing, Lewis breaks their kiss, leaning his forehead against the German's. This is one of his favourite views ever, Nico with the lips red and wet and open and inviting, his cheeks reddened by their activities, his eyes clear and liquid. When Lewis presses his body against Nico's, he can only say «Please,» multiple times, a sort of litany to which the Brit can't ever resist. He drags them both on the bed, not caring about what they bumped into to do this movement, takes both of their trousers off but leaves the underwear where they are. His movements are messy and clumsy, and his hands are shaking.
It pains Lewis to admit it, but he imagined many times this moment, played different scenarios in his head when the melancholy hit harder and he couldn't just block the images out of his head. When alone in the bed and without being able to sleep his mind drifted to an after, a possibility, a sort of magical re-encounter where everything fit in the right place and they didn't need to discuss anything, just out of the love for each other they were able to fall into bed together again, everything sweet and perfect, ready to throw themselves in the future together. Now, they both are naked and Lewis is sure that Nico can read too many feelings from his face (of the two, it's always been him who's been easier to read), and he knows that dreams and reality hardly are the same thing, he knows that this will hurt them both.
And still, even with this knowledge, he traces the lines of his chest with his fingers, watching as the goosebumps follow his touch, takes in the view of Nico like he can't get enough of that skin so pale and of those edges he's kissed again and again and he's discovering are almost all still there. Nico is beautiful, he can fool himself in believing that Nico is his, again, now and forever. At least for the next hours.
Lewis brings two fingers inside himself but he is in too much of a rush to spend too much time on this, he's physically feeling the need of having Nico inside him. He moves them fast, eagerly, and admires the sight of Nico looking at him, mapping the tattoos he didn't have the last time they did this, biting his lips in expectation and not trying anymore to hide just how much he has been waiting for this moment too.
Nico reaches out to trace the compass on his chest (it's always been Nico's favourite one, always used to kiss it and say it pointed to home for him, and Lewis has never been able to tell him that that sentence would have been too cheesy for everyone, even more for Nico Rosberg), and Lewis stops what he's doing, only to move on and slowly, painfully slowly for the both of them, guides Nico's cock inside of him, moaning and squeezing his eyes. He doesn't miss how Nico too lets out a moan. Nico's other hand runs down his neck, his shoulder, his arm and then find his hand, linking their fingers, and Lewis throws his head backwards, gripping it hard. He rides Nico slowly, gone is the anger that guided him in kissing Nico before, and what's left is only this desire to make it last, make it good before the storm comes back again on them. He concentrates on his heart pounding hard, on the waves of pleasure that unroll themselves in his chest while he moves. When he meets Nico's eyes, he finds that the German is staring at him, and he allows himself to drown in those light blue pools that are still shining, catching all the light they can, but also full of unsaid feelings from his part too.
They hit the climax only seconds apart, their bodies still recognizing each other, and then Lewis allows himself to fall clumsily on Nico's body, pressing one more time their forehead together. Nico leans in and kiss his mouth, dry, just a brief touch of lips, and Lewis smiles. He tries to roll over, but Nico doesn't let him, his arms closing around Lewis' waist to hold him close, and the Brit, with a sigh, presses his head against his chest.
-----
Lewis presses his fingertips hard between his shoulder blades, just to see the mark briefly left on that pale skin of him, on that back so broad and still so fit even if Nico stopped being a professional athlete years ago. He has always loved to see the contrast between their skins first, and then between his body, everywhere marked with tattoos, and Nico's one, clean and perfectly intact. Lewis has always been scared of not being enough for Nico, not when they were teenagers but when they grew up and realized just how different they have always been, no matter how much Nico would do to make him forget about these thoughts, they've always been lingering there. While in the end it was him, Nico, the one who ended up crushed by his fears of not being enough to the world and devastated the relationship with the one person in the paddock who never made him feel like he was Keke's son.
Lewis bites down on the skin of his collarbones, Nico moans and the sound echoes in the room. Lewis presses his hands on the other's hips, feeling the bones under them, Nico stares at the ceiling panting hard, hair all messed up and sprawled on the pillow, biting his bottom lip hard enough to turn it white. Nico must sense that Lewis' eyes are on him because he opens his own to meet them, and something softens in the features of the face, he lets go of the lip and puts a hand over the stomach of the Brit, a gentle caress that leaves a hole in his chest. Lewis aligns his face with Nico's, close enough to feel the breathe of the German on his own nose but careful not to touch him.
«Stop running away,» says Nico, with a little smile that doesn't quite manage to hide all the nostalgia of what they had from his face, tracing the line of Lewis' jaw with his index.
«I can't,» admits Lewis.
-----
Lewis was prepared to Nico leaving, this time, but even like this it's not something he will ever be able to accept easily. Nico has left so many times already that he should know how to deal with it, and still he's never really prepared, because it's Nico and he's always been the exception, always and at everything, in racing and in life, since they were teenagers. He's going to be his exception forever, because now Lewis knows, even better than before, there is no way they can ever find an end to what they are. Nico is still and probably will always be the addiction he can't kick, the shot of vodka drank when you already had too much but can't say no to even if you know you're already at the limit.
Nico is smiling, at the airport, even with the mask Lewis knows this from the way his eyes crinkle at the edges, and there is never going to be a good moment to say goodbye, but they have to part.
«We'll meet again,» Nico says.
«Of course.» Lewis is surprised that there isn't anything hard to swallow in his throat as he answers this.
It's not perfect. Lewis doesn't feel full again, he doesn't think he'll ever be again – there are too, too many things between them, all that happened in the past happened with too much intensity and so now that can't just forget about it, just pretend nothing ever happened and play love doves like the oblivious teenagers they were, making out and discovering each other for the first time.
«This isn't a goodbye,» adds Nico, and he looks like he wants to add something more, wants to reach out and takes Lewis' hand, maybe give him a last kiss that would seal his words like a promise.
«I hope so,» whispers Lewis, almost more to himself than as an actual answer. Nico heard it, though, and raises one hand to his cheek, tracing the lines of the bones with his thumb, in a gesture that he used to always do when they woke up together. Lewis breathes in. He wants to say something along the lines of maybe I still love you, but he doesn't. He relaxes into the touch as he exhales, and when he looks in Nico's eyes, he's fairly sure he can read an I know, I still love you too in them.
-----
London days are over and Lewis is back with Mercedes in Belgium, Nico is back to his family and they haven't exchanged another word after the plane left. Lewis is scrolling through his Instagram feed (he didn't follow Nico back again, he is still not ready for that talk from Toto, but it's been an habit in the last days for him to check if the German posted something new), and when he sees a photo of him he doesn't feel anymore that desire to throw the phone away that has been with him for these last years every time his name came up. It's like before London he was looking at him through a stained glass, and now after London someone has wiped that glass clean, and he can finally see Nico for what he is and not his projections about him.
It scares him, even if this feels good, at least better than it felt before. Lewis still feels like he misses something and he knows that there's only one person who can give it to him, but when Nico asked him what he wanted to do now, he has looked down and Nico understood that he didn't know. He didn't ask again, just kept tracing the lines of the lion on his shoulder.
The screen of the phone, forgotten in his hands, brightens with the notification of a new message. There's a photo of two blonde little girls watching his free practice from the day before; they would really like to meet their favourite driver, one day, says the text.
Lewis puts his helmet on. After all, he might manage to stop running away. One day.