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effervescentdragon · 7 months

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you get a part of redredred, the 2022 season sebchal that runs parallel to niamh's valewis. it follows the 2022 season and has flashbacks. its around 50k or more and dont think i'll ever finish it because it hurts, but who knows. 💜

Bahrain 2022

Seb wakes up on the couch and groans in discomfort. No matter how persistently he’d searched for the most comfortable couch out there, he still woke up hurting. It’s the age, not the couch, he thinks and sighs. Then he remembers yesterday.

A grin overtakes his face. Charles won.

Charles won, and Seb couldn’t help himself. He’d almost screamed when Charles was informed by Xavi that Max had engine problems, and hearing Charles scream and laugh in joy was… wonderful.

I’m not the last Ferrari GP winner, he thinks, and the thought doesn’t even hurt. Charles is, he thinks, and grabs his phone with a smile.

Two (2) new messages.

He’d congratulated only two people on the grid yesterday, because he couldn’t not. He was too tired to even contemplate picking up the call from Lance, or Lawrence, and he wanted to talk to Mick on the phone sometime today, because he knows that he would’ve taken finishing just out of the points very hard. He is still smiling as he opens the first message.

From: Charles

Please don’t hate me. Wish you were here.

His smile falls instantly.

“Fuck.”

Seb stares at the words on the screen. Please don’t hate me. Fuck. As if he would hate Charles, God. As if he could, for fucks’ sake. His head hurts. His fucking heart hurts.

“What have I done to you,” he mutters to himself, getting up to get some coffee. He knows he needs to eat, but he can’t stomach anything at the moment. He does take a glass of water and the coffee, and goes back to the couch.

One (1) new message.

“Fuck it,” he repeats. He needs to talk to someone. “Might as well.”

From: Lewis

Hey man, how are you? And thanks, I rly wasn't expecting it. It was a bouncy ride, a bit too bouncy if I'm being honest

Their chat history is open, the congratulatory message for the podium Seb had sent him the night before the last interaction they've had.

Seb hesitates for just a second, and then starts typing.

To: Lewis

Glad you made it through. I'm alright, feeling a bit better. Still tired though. How was Toto at the party? :)

From: Lewis

Susie was there, so you can imagine :) I think he wants to cut off even more parts from the car. He was pretty happy that ur home team had a bad day tho :)

Seb can't help but chuckle at that. The animosity between Christian and Toto always went deep, but it reached new heights in the last season. Seb gets it, and privately he thinks Toto is right about most things, but there is still a part of him that's probably always going to be uncomfortable about bad-mouthing Christian, even though the man has changed much throughout the years.

The fact that Lewis can tease him about Red Bull is a good sign, though. He still refuses to address them by name, which is a bit petty in Seb's opinion. Then again, Seb himself is far from being immune to pettiness.

To: Lewis

I know you don't mean Ferrari, because they wiped the floor with you :)

He regrets the message as soon as he sends it, especially when the answer comes back instantly.

From: Lewis

Yeah, Carlos was so good, man, easily one of his best drives. Your boy was on fire tho. The way he defended, damn. Did you see it?

Seb hates the way his pulse quickens. He hates the way Lewis' words make him feel. He shouldn't be feeling like this, because. Well. Because nothing and no one in Bahrain is his. Lewis' message is calculated to provoke him, but Seb doesn't mind it that much. He knows what his friend is doing - giving him a push and an out at the same time. It's on Seb to take it or leave it.

To: Lewis

Yeah, I watched the race. Wanted to see what the cars could do, and some of it was surprising. Good for Kevin and Mick :)

He pauses. He could leave it at that, and Lewis would accept it. They don't have to talk about it anymore. He can just leave it all at that.

Seb can't help himself. He never was one for avoidance; at least not with Lewis. Maybe only with Lewis.

To: Lewis

He's not my boy.

The reply is instantaneous.

From: Lewis

Not for lack of trying on his part

From: Lewis

Did you at least congratulate him?

Seb closes his eyes for a moment, covers them with his hand. He wants not to have this conversation. He wants a Jäger shot. He wants -

It doesn't matter what he wants. A lot of things don't matter, even though he wants them to. A lot of things matter, even though he tries to pretend they are as unimportant as possible.

Lewis could always see through him, though. Seb owes him honesty, and cares for him too much to try to mislead him; the only person he lies to regularly is himself, really. He appreciates Lewis too much to lie to him in any way. They’ve been through everything, and they’ve faced it all more or less together, and there was no reason anymore to keep up pretenses, when they knew one another inside and out in both the best and worst ways.

He knows why Lewis texted him, and he can't help but smile. Lewis always saw too much with those eyes of his, and he knew Seb needs the push.

To: Lewis

He asked me not to hate him.

To: Lewis

As if I ever could.

The reply is slow to come, or it just seems that way. Seb stares at his phone the whole time after sending the message, his heart in his throat. All the reasons for his avoidance of the topic come to mind, and he tries to take a deep breath to calm himself. He opens Lewis' message.

All that he manages to do is choke on air and almost cough out his lungs when Lewis' messages come in one after the other.

From: Lewis

I asked him if he wanted to be lifted in the air. He said, and I had to google this to write it right jsyk, "Nicht jetzt, danke". His pronunciation is terrible tho, worse than mine

From: Lewis

I think he missed you on the podium

From: Lewis

I think he misses you a lot

I miss him too, Seb thinks. I miss him so much, but it doesn't matter. It's better this way, Seb thinks. "Il Predestinato," he whispers to himself. He sighs and types.

To: Lewis

It's better like this.

Lewis' reply is angry, and Seb should have maybe expected it, but it still takes him aback.

From: Lewis

For fucking who, Seb?

Sebastian has committed himself to this course of action, or, well, inaction, and he will stick to it. He has to.

To: Lewis

For him. He has the car now, and his whole destiny. He is older, and more experienced, and he isn't impatient any more.

He hesitates, then adds on the phrase he's been repeating to himself for the past two years at least.

To: Lewis

He doesn't need me. Not anymore.

From: Lewis

Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep easier?

From: Lewis

You were always bad at lying, man, but this is just pathetic

Fuck, Seb thinks. Lewis always sees too much, and this time he's not backing off for some reason. "Fuck you," he says out loud to himself so he doesn't say it to Lewis in a fit of anger that's bubbling under his skin, because Lewis is right. Seb loves him and hates him for it equally.

Lewis is one of Sebastian's best friends on the grid, and the one who understands him the best in some ways. It wasn't always like that, but after 2016, many things have changed. Nico left, and Seb didn't think about that anymore, like he didn't think about many things anymore. In another life, where they weren't racing drivers and each others biggest competition for a whole decade, and where they met at a later point in life, and where there was no Nico and no Mark to shape them into who they were when the time was right, Seb would've been in love with Lewis, and vice versa. Maybe he is a bit in love with him anyways, because honestly, who isn't? Lewis is amazing, and kind, and one of the strongest people Seb knows, and he respects him too much as a person and a competitor, and loves him too much to push for something that just would not work. Not the way they are, and not with their history, and especially not in this world where both Valtteri Bottas and Charles Leclerc exist.

Because no matter how much Seb loves Lewis for pushing him, a part of him is angry, because Lewis is being such a hypocrite right now. He is right about Sebastian, but he is still being a hypocrite, and Seb is too tired and hurting a bit too much to let him get away with it.

To: Lewis

How's Valtteri?

He gets up and refills his coffee as he waits to see what Lewis will say.

From: Lewis

There's the bastard I know

From: Lewis

He's fine. Didn't ask me if i hated him, bcs I'm a normal person who still speaks to his former teammate and friend normally

To: Lewis

So you normally took him up on that normal coffee date?

From: Lewis

Fuck you

To: Lewis

Once wasn't enough for you? :)

Seb couldn't resist reminding Lewis of the one and only time they slept together in 2016 occasionally. It wasn't something either of them dwelled on needlessly, even though it was definitely some of the best sex Seb's ever had. It was fun, and amazing, and heart-breaking, and just an inch shy of too much at the same time, and neither of them ever regretted it. They did both agree the next morning not to repeat it, because the bruises they left on each other were just a bit too painful, and the way they looked at each other as they were fucking was just a bit too raw, and for the whole time their thoughts were just a bit too focused on the men who were their teammates, and they both knew it. Neither of them resented the other for it, and that fundamental understanding that it was just not the right time for them and it never would be may be the reason why they became and stayed such good friends.

From: Lewis

It was at least two times that night, and stop changing the subject :)

To: Lewis

I'm really not. It's the same thing.

From: Lewis

I know

From: Lewis

Man, where did all our bravery go?

To: Lewis

We left it on track sometime in late 2010's :)

From: Lewis

You might be right there

From: Lewis

Fuck we're old

Seb chuckles, because Lewis is both right and wrong. Being on top of the world in your early twenties screwed them both up in some fundamental way, and with both of them being overachievers and determined to win, their perception of the world and their age was impossibly skewered. Seb knows he is going to have to re-evaluate what he wants to do in his life again really soon, but that was a conversation for another time, and to be made in person. Another text from Lewis pulls him out of his thoughts.

From: Lewis

What will you do now?

Seb sighs for god-knows which time and scratches his beard. He should shave soon; he has that video-conference with Aston Martin on Wednesday, and he should look less like a hobo and more like a professional who has his life together. I should look less like a lovesick fool, he thinks and then rolls his eyes at his own propensity for dramatics.

To: Lewis

I have no idea. You?

Lewis' reply makes Seb bark out a laugh.

From: Lewis

Get a bloody muffin. Feelings are exhausting

To: Lewis

Yeah. Maybe we shouldn't talk about them then :)

Lewis doesn't reply, and Seb takes that as a sign that his friend is as tired as he is of the emotional turmoil they've both been going through. It's probably for the best. Seb needs to sleep some more, his body rebelling against even the little exertion he's had today.

He puts his phone on the table and lays on the couch. Maybe the universe will be merciful to him today, and he won't dream of heart-breaking eyes and French-accented voice speaking to him in terrible German.

#f1 rpf #trick or treat asks #effervescendragonwrites #imma tag this #sebchal #valewis #but also sewis #bcs its two of them here #naila 💜#redredred reference

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milflewis · 20 days

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Soulmate AU

When Sebastian first meets Nico Rosberg — and his hair more specifically — again after the crash, he nearly pisses his pants laughing.

“I see you have a type, eh?” He asks Lewis. He runs a hand through his own blond hair.

“Tell me,” he starts, leaning forward over Lewis’s left shoulder. Bono is saying something in the seat beside Lewis. Lewis’s face is relaxed and calm.

“Did you jerk off to Michael too? Blond, German, very fast. He’d fit in your collection.”

Lewis’s face doesn’t even flicker. When he asks a question about whatever Bono is saying, his voice is steady and quiet. They could be back in their regular driver briefings. Something in Sebastian’s chest swells up, pushing at his heart and lungs, mean and sour.

“Don’t worry,” he tells Lewis. “We all did. Can’t have you thinking you are special, hmm?”

There are stories — old ones — that one hears over the years.

Stories of those who don’t meet their soulmates properly in life, and so join them in death.

Sebastian used to love stories.

When he opens his eyes after going into the wall too fast and too hard, he is standing beside Lewis Hamilton.

Lewis is talking to Ted, the camera on. His eyes are shadowed and his shoulders are curved slightly inwards.

When he sees Sebastian next to him, he startles, mouth falling open. “I — You.”

“Lewis?” Ted is frowning, concerned. “Are you alright?” He has a hand up as if to tell the cameraman to get ready to stop rolling. Or to zoom in on Lewis’s face. Sebastian isn’t sure.

“Um.” Lewis blinks, swallowing. He glances at Ted and then back at Sebastian.

Never let it be said that Sebastian isn’t ever helpful.

“He can’t see me, I think,” Sebastian says, and then mimes a blowjob with his hand and mouth, tongue in cheek, in front of Ted, who doesn’t stop staring at Lewis.

“Right, yeah,” Lewis says, as shakey as Sebastian has ever heard him. “Um.”

“Funny story,” Sebastian says, furious. He wants his dad. He stays looking into Lewis’s tired shocked face. He thinks if he sees his mom, he will never be able to stop crying “Turns out we are soulmates.”

“Lewis, you okay? Do you need a minute?”

Lewis inhales. Sebastian can see him visibly remember there is a camera on him. When he smiles, it is a thin slight of a thing.

“Sorry, man, what was your question again?”

Lewis gets more curled in on himself as the year goes on, face thin. Quieter too. Him and Nico snap and snap at each other’s heels. Toto nearly has a stroke keeping them from biting.

Sebastian is self aware enough to know that he is not helping. That his commentary — one sided that it is as no one other than Lewis can hear him and Lewis rarely responds, not through words nor expressions — is only making things worse for him.

He can’t bring himself to care.

It drives the cold away a little. That short spark of satisfaction and victory when he pokes and pokes and pokes and Lewis keeps a straight face through it all.

Sometimes, if Lewis breaks, either in a flinch or an aborted eye roll, or god forbid, a laugh, then Sebastian can even make himself pretend that he is still alive.

“I have a question,” Sebastian declares. He is standing over by the window, looking out at the paddock.

Lewis ignores him.

Nico is saying something in response to James Allison. He looks tense. The entire room looks tense. Sebastian rolls his shoulders.

“Did you stop fucking Nico before I died, or do you only not like exhibitionism? I could leave if you want privacy.”

This makes Lewis look at him. It is a quick glance, cutting and sarcastic, eyebrows slightly raised. He somehow manages to look pissed and amused and embarrassed, all at the same time.

Sebastian smiles sunnily at him. It is often exhausting to be around Lewis, especially when he is like this. Lewis might be quiet, packed in tightly, but he spills over most of the time. No one can ever accuse him of being small.

“You are right, I guess,” Sebastian muses thoughtfully. “I would not leave you alone. I would be too bored.”

Nico wins. Nico retires. Lewis disappears home for the break. Sebastian follows his brother around for a few months, chattering at him, even though Fabian doesn’t ever respond. It’s not that different from before if he is being honest.

There is a Lewis light in his chest, always pulling. It’s not that bad of a sore, Sebastian reasons. Only a little achey.

Formula One has started back up again when Sebastian follows the tug back to Lewis.

Lewis doesn’t say anything at Sebastian’s sudden appearance in the garage. His shoulders relax slightly though when Sebastian makes a quick quip about Valtteri’s blond — Seriously, Lewis, Sebastian thinks, half fond — hair.

He looks less like a scrunched up tissue someone used to blow their nose with. Sebastian tells him this. He catches Lewis’s badly smothered eye roll in the sleek reflective black of Mercedes’ desks.

He even makes Lewis laugh, startled, when he asks him if he managed to get laid while Sebastian was gone.

“So,” Niki says, sitting down beside Lewis in his motorhome. Lewis hums, pulling out his earbuds. Sebastian is slumped on the floor, back against the opposite wall. They’re waiting to be called for the post practise debrief.

“So.”

The half grin, all teeth and eyes squishing up, that Lewis sends Niki reminds Sebastian of Formula Three. His fingers itch for a steering wheel.

“Are you going to introduce me to your soulmate anytime before I die?”

Lewis goes very still. Stupidly, damningly, his eyes dart to Sebastian before he looks back at Niki.

Niki raises his eyebrows. He, eerily, manages to look Sebastian directly in the eyes. Sebastian waves. Just in case.

Niki’s expression doesn’t change.

Sebastian’s exhale could be a laugh.

“Well?” Niki nudges. “I am not getting older, you know?”

“Jesus, Nik,” Lewis says, automatically, like it’s rote. “I’ve told you. Stop making those jokes.”

“You’re the one who calls me ‘old man’.”

“It’s a term of endearment!”

Niki stares at him down. For the first time in Sebastian’s life — and death — he watches as Lewis Hamilton gives in.

“I don’t need to introduce you. You already know him.”

“Knew him,” Sebastian corrects. Lewis ignores him.

Niki watches Lewis for a moment longer. Lewis, resolutely, refuses to look away.

“This is ridiculous,” Sebastian informs him.

“Hello, Sebastian,” Niki says, and for the second time in not even five minutes, Sebastian wonders if Niki can see him. He doesn’t bother waving this time but it is a little freaky.

“I hate you,” Lewis tells him, sulkily.

“Yes,” Niki says, patting him on the shoulder. “I know.”

“How did you know?”

Sebastian isn’t sure if Lewis is asking how Niki knew that Lewis had a dead soulmate or how he knew that dead soulmate was Sebastian.

“Hmm, last year, you were weird. Weirder after Sebastian. Not how Nigel was, with Elio, or Michael, with Aryton.” Niki doesn’t take his eyes off of Lewis. His voice and face is softer than Sebastian has ever heard or seen. “Just. Weird. And still too, after Nico left.”

Lewis swallows thickly. “Right.”

“Some of me hoped.” Niki stops. He looks over at where Lewis looked earlier, when he is steadily refusing to look now. “When James died, I looked out for him.”

He shrugs. There is something hanging heavy in his face. “We knew each other too well in life, maybe. Or that was all the time we were given. More than most.”

“Yeah.”

Lewis meets Sebastian’s eyes. Sebastian looks back at him.

“And,” Niki says. He reaches a hand behind them and raps on the wall. “These are a bit thin too. I heard you talking to someone, once or twice.”

“Fuck off,” Lewis laughs. He scrubs an open palm down his face.

Niki reaches over to pat his cheek firmly. “You are sleeping better, this is good. Keep it up.”

“Aye, cap’n,” Lewis says dryly.

Jenson: you cheatying slag

Jenson: i knoiw 4 a FACT that you dont know all the wdcs off by heart

Jenson: usinh seb as your own fuckinh wiki is wrong

Jenson: always knew you were a cheater aty your core. fernando warned me about you LOL

Jenson: also. tell seb hes a nerd

#ok so. major character death. but like. also not bc ghosts are a thing here #i’ll tag it anyway just in case #tw major character death #sewis #five head cannons ask game #little fics #anon tag #niamh.asks

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