#sebchalewis

Charles was waiting for him just outside the paddock, in a discreet Audi with tainted windows. Lewis smiled as he opened the door and slipped inside, leaving a quick peck on Charles' lips.

"I'm exhausted," he sighed, fastening his seatbelt as Charles started the car. "Thank god the season is ending soon."

"Still two races to go, though... it's too long, I want to have you all to myself," Charles pouted.

Lewis laughed - Charles was always adorable when he was doing that face. 2023 had been a long, long season, and he was looking forward to the peaceful break. The Mercedes had been hell this season.

They drove in peaceful silence back to Lewis' hotel, and went up to his room without being recognised - Charles had traded his usual red for a plain white hoodie, for which Lewis was grateful. It probably wouldn't look good to be caught with a Ferrari driver in the Mercedes hotel.

"Have you talked to Seb?" Charles asked suddenly as Lewis unlocked his room.

"Talked to Seb? About what?" he frowned. Charles slipped inside, and turned to face him.

"About us, duh. You can't keep him in the dark, you promised you'd tell him soon," he rolled his eyes. Right. They had had that discussion before, but Lewis had been... stalling.

"Keep me in the dark about what?" a third voice asked, making them both jump out of his skin. Lewis scrambled to the light switch, to discover Sebastian, sitting on the bed, arms crossed and an eyebrow lifted.

"Seb! What are you doing here?" Lewis gasped, eyes darting nervously between him and Charles. Fuck, that was not how he had planned things to go.

"Thought about surprising you by flying over. It wasn't difficult to get your hotel key from Toto," Seb hummed. "So, what are you hiding from me, exactly?"

"I- well... There's..."

"Oh you, see, it's- it's about a surprise for your birthday so we can't tell you!" Charles improvised.

"My birthday was five months ago," Sebastian drawled out.

"Charles, it's okay," Lewis sighed and turned to Seb. "I hadn't planned on telling you like this..."

"Tell me what, for fuck's sake?" Sebastian exclaimed, getting impatient. He never did like not knowing something.

"I'm signing with Ferrari in 2025."

There. The bomb was dropped. He waited anxiously for a reaction. He was scared Sebastian would be mad. He remembered the sorrow in his voice when he had been let go in 2020. He remembered the long night they spent comforting Charles whenever Ferrari messed up his race. Whenever he felt like cracking under the pressure, like he wasn't good enough.

He might have refrained from talking to Sebastian about it because he was scared he would try to talk him out of it. Charles had tried, a little, but the light of devotion in his eyes whenever he talked about Ferrari had always been facinating to Lewis. Like it was worth all the suffering it involved going through.

Sebastian's annoyed face morphed into... a smile. A huge, bright smile splitting his face in two, and there it was, the same light Charles had in his eyes whenever something involved Ferrari.

"You are?" he gasped, springing from the bed to rush to Lewis, and hang himself to his neck. "Oh my god, this is going to be incredible! I can't believe we're gonna get to see you wear the Ferrari red!"

"You mean, when he's not stealing your old shirts," Charles snickered, approaching to drop a peck on Seb's cheek. "Missed you, it's great to see you."

Sebastian turned to him, letting go of Lewis just long enough to kiss him. Charles hummed happily, hand wrapping around Seb's waist.

"Missed you too," Sebastian grinned.

"What about me?" Lewis whined, which was enough for Seb to pull him in for a passionate, filthy kiss. Damn, if he had known he'd get kissed like that, he would've told Sebastian much sooner.

When they pulled apart, Charles was looking at them with great interest. They were in for a fun night. Lewis wondered how Seb and Charles would react the very first time he saw him in a Ferrari racing suit.

He was looking forward to it.

charles was everything he’d been warned of, twelve months ago, and nothing that he’d thought to exploit. mysterious smirking grins even at his most vulnerable, able to hold out a knife to the world and say “yes, this is where you can cut me open. this is where you can make me bleed for you, for your story”, a thousand little mistakes he’d assumed were inherent to the driver actually coming from overdriving a car that didn’t respond to him - that vanished the instant he got one that did.

lewis felt insane.

charles was held so gently by the hands of the world, with even his fiercest competitors accepting of his championship win - and proud of him even, proud to see him succeed in his-their- greatest dream, even as they failed. for fuck’s sake, lewis is pretty sure he saw both max verstappen and george russell at charles’ victory party, and god above knows how little either of those competitors liked to celebrate anyone other than them winning.

max was max - lewis was pretty sure he took pleasure in his ‘true rival’ winning ahead of lewis, he’d probably take anyone winning ahead of lewis. but george was another story - george was only ever truly happy when he was winning, and lewis was pretty sure he would only deign to congratulate lewis’ wins to keep the team onside. sure, george had clearly been a fan of lewis growing up, but it becomes very hard to separate on-track from off-track in formula one, and lewis was sure at least a few of those instagram stories had been made begrudgingly. and yet there he was, looking genuinely thrilled at charles’ luck and victory. lewis was pretty sure he’d even seen fernando congratulating charles, which was just - bizarre. he didn’t have another word for it. and seb? seb was practically part of the centre of the party, him and charles and max all together in a little world where two of the worst losers lewis had ever known turned around and practically worshipped charles’ title.

so he’d gone to valentino. ever since 2020 they’d truly become friends, but even before that they’d gone to the same kinds of parties, mixed with the same crowds, and lewis had caught vale in a number of compromising positions with a number of different people over the years, and vice versa. he appreciated vale more than he could say, truly. for a while, vale had been the only other bisexual motorsports pilot he’d known, aside from ralf schumacher, which - no. lewis was happy for that particular relationship to stay one of mutual dislike, quite frankly.