#enthaising

Sebastian relishes in it. Lewis is a tidal wave threatening to take him under. He’s addicted to the moment where, no matter how often they’ve done this already, he thinks that Lewis is not going to fit, that Sebastian will have to stop. He never needs to so he never does, but those few tenths of a second shoot adrenaline through him in a way he’s only ever associated with racing before this.

It wasn't like Lewis had come to humour Sebastian, but when he saw Mark Webber, half a head taller than anyone else, make his way through the throng to the champion of the day, Lewis still decided to step in.

He dove into the crowd around Sebastian too, goal-oriented enough that he reached Sebastian at the same time as Mark. "Loser buys the winner a drink," Lewis said just loud enough for the people around them to hear."C'mon Seb, I owe you this one!"

The crowd parted, and Lewis shot Mark a toothy grin as he pulled a pliable Sebastian along with him. Sebastian was well on his way to drunk, and he accepted the shot glass from Lewis with a big grin.

"There you go, on me," Lewis said and lifted his own. 

"Thank you," Sebastian said, enunciating a little too clearly, and clinked the glasses together, spilling clear liquid over his knuckles. "The bar is open though."

Lewis shrugged, but he smiled when he knocked the shot back. Sebastian was a little slower, watching Lewis do it with glittering eyes, before he tipped his own glass to his mouth and tilted his head back.

Lewis found himself watching Sebastian's adam's apple bob when he swallowed. "So why are you avoiding Mark?" Lewis asked and set his emptied glass aside.

Sebastian set aside his own glass and tapped his nose. He managed to hit it, which made him look even more drunk. "Same reason you used to avoid Nico last year, I think," he said.

Lewis froze, hand still on the bartop. Sebastian seemed not to notice, eyes flicking out to the dancefloor.

"I didn't," Lewis said carefully. "We were teammates."

Sebastian's eyes flickered back to Lewis. A smile tugged at his generous mouth. "So was Mark and I," he said. 

"Really?" Lewis blurted out, and despite himself, he found Mark across the room, where he was talking to someone else, eyebrows lowered and long arms gesticulating occasionally. Lewis realised Sebastian's shoulders were shaking with silent laughter beside him. "You're having me on," Lewis said and pulled back, crossing his arms.

"No, no!" Sebastian said and touched Lewis's arm, as if to pull him back. He blinked up at Lewis, pleading. "I promise I'm not!"

Lewis looked at Mark again, only to see him look back. "Oh shit," Lewis said and grabbed Sebastian's arm back. "Quick, let's get away  before he catches up with us!"

They hurried out onto the deck, half-tangled together and laughing. The fresh air and  relative silence  washed over Lewis, a welcome respite from the heat and noise inside. They found a corner, half hidden behind a huge potted plant, and Sebastian slumped against the railing, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Really though," Lewis said, crossing his arms again and leaning against the plant. "Mark?"

"Well, in my defence, it was a long time ago," Sebastian said and coughed.

"Why are you telling me this?" Lewis said, lowering his voice even though they were alone out here.

Sebastian shrugged. "You asked," he said with a smile. But then it dropped off and he looked down, uncharacteristically serious. "Maybe it's nice for me that someone else knows."

"You mean no one–" Lewis cut himself off. Not many had known about him and Nico after all, but the people closest to them did. Lewis certainly hadn't expected Sebastian to be one of them. Lewis moved to lean on the railing too, beside Sebastian.  "When did you– When did it stop?"

"When Mark retired," Sebastian said with another shrug. He was leaning most of his weight on the railing now, which made it lopsided. "Like with you and Nico, right?"

"Well," Lewis said. Something about Sebastian's unguarded honesty made him want to respond in kind. "A little before, actually."

Sebastian gave a long, low whistle. "Sounds like we both made some terrible decisions there," he said.

Lewis laughed. "You can say that again," he said

It had always been Lewis's fear, that people would look at him differently if they knew about him and Nico. But Sebastian knew, apparently, and he looked at Lewis the same.  And all along, Sebastian was– Sebastian had–

"When did you find out?" Lewis asked. "About me and Nico?"

Sebastian shrugged again. He was doodling a pattern on the railing with his index finger. "I mean I never did," he said. "I just assumed.  Sorry."

Lewis elbowed, him and Sebastian swayed with the contact, grinning sloppily. "Okay, well," Lewis said archly. There was no use in trying to deny it. "When did you first assume, then?"

"I don't know," Sebastian said and fiddled with the shirt cuff of his Ferrari polo. "I just– some of it looked a lot like Mark and me, at the end, you know?"

Lewis tried to picture what Sebastian and Mark had been like at the end, but he couldn't quite bring it to mind. Sebastian had been so dominant then, no one had been able to keep up. Mark had just been a vague, sullen shadow to his brilliance, not really even a threshold for Lewis to step over. Lewis didn't want to think about what people would remember about him and Nico.

"I'm sorry," Lewis said. And then, because the curiosity was killing him, "Did you also want to strangle him by the end?"

Sebastian shot him a lopsided grin. "I think he wanted to strangle me," he said. "But I guess it's the same, in the end."

Lewis found himself looking at Sebastian differently now – he had always been a flirt, in a clumsy, handsy sort of way but Lewis had always assumed it was toothless. Now, when Sebastian ran a hand over his own, smooth-shaved jaw and glanced at Lewis, Lewis felt himself flush and hurried to look out at the view.

"I should have known it was never going to work," Lewis said into the night air. "It was stupid of me to try for so long."

"I don't think so," Sebastian said. "It's never wrong to try, you know?"

he's restless after qualifying, even through the haze of fatigue. a hot shower doesn't settle him and neither does the austere salmon dinner he eats with little to no enthusiasm. he opens a few group chats to try and catch up with friends, but finds he has nothing to say.

impulsively, he winds up outside alex's williams motorhome. it's modestly sized but nice all the same; yuki just hopes that alex is there. and alone.

it occurs to yuki that maybe he should have texted when alex opens the gleaming fiberglass door, beaming: "yuki! hey! what's up, mate?" he's in a white tee and baggy sweatpants, clearly in for the night.

yuki crams his hands into his pockets. "hey, sorry, are you busy?"

alex's demeanor shifts from pleasant to concerned, eyebrows scrunching together. "no, just watching a bit of telly. you all right?"

yuki shifts his weight and glances down, feeling suddenly-- ridiculous. "bored. wanna go out?" he forces himself to grit out. short and to the point never steered him too wrong.

alex leans a ways out the door, studying yuki closely. "the only thing you look fit for is sleeping, honestly."

yuki sighs. "yeah, m'tired. but." he can't find within himself the words to finish the sentence. tired, but: an endless, oceanic list of conflicting emotions.

alex reels himself up and shuffles aside, opening the door wider. "i don't wanna go out," he says, "but you can come in, if you want."

that's how yuki finds himself curled up on alex's bed, atop the duvet, watching the tv mounted on the opposite wall. alex is watching re-runs of old enough! and yuki can't help smiling at his ridiculous, open-mouthed donkey laughter. he closes his eyes for a second, the screen making his vision water. a second is all it takes for alex to notice. "hey," alex says, nudging him gently. "take a nap if you want. i can wake you in a little while."

without thinking, yuki wriggles until his back is pressed along alex's bony side, a heat-seeking missile on auto-pilot. "yeah," he murmurs, already fading. "thanks, alex."