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Lewis Hamilton felt ecstatic. Las Vegas had been impressive for him and for George Russell, especially towards the end of the season. Finishing in second place, after so much time underperforming, was something truly emotional for him. Hamilton would certainly miss Mercedes, despite the ups and downs, and especially George, who had been his teammate for only a short time but had become very important to him. They were at that party also celebrating the four-time champion Max Verstappen. For a while, Lewis had felt somewhat uncomfortable because of him; Max was a prodigy, there was no denying that. However, once they resolved their differences, he cheered for him.
As he sat close to George, he picked up a non-alcoholic drink, chatting animatedly with his teammate, who had a radiant smile on his lips.
Lewis was not the type to indulge in parties—years ago, maybe, but now he felt too old for that. He moved his dark eyes around the party; there were colorful lights, loud electronic music, and the younger drivers were having fun dancing in the middle of the hall. Max and Charles were together, talking and exchanging affectionate touches, which made him chuckle softly. But his smile vanished, and his eyelids twitched when he spotted blonde locks in the crowd. Hamilton tried not to believe what his vision showed him. He knew very well the person who stood there, also looking in his direction.
George looked confused when his friend suddenly stopped talking and became completely still, staring at a specific spot. It was then that the taller man noticed that Nico Rosberg was at the party.
George knew their story and the way Lewis still had feelings for the blond man. Not that the older one had ever told him—Lewis wasn’t someone of many words. But it was obvious in the way he reacted whenever Nico’s name was mentioned anywhere, and the way Lewis was now completely paralyzed, his eyes trembling. Russell was absolutely sure that Lewis Hamilton was still intensely in love with Nico Rosberg.
“Are you just going to stand there looking like a ghost, or are you going to talk to him?” George asked after a few seconds, and the man with almond-brown skin finally snapped out of it, biting his lips and looking away.
“I would never do that,” Lewis responded as if it were obvious. “I have nothing to say to him. Everything has already been resolved.”
“Are you sure about that?” His teammate arched an eyebrow, and Hamilton looked at him indignantly.
“Where’s the respect, kid?” he muttered, and glanced discreetly back at Rosberg, who was still in the same spot, but now looking somewhere else. However, as soon as Lewis looked at him, Nico looked back.
George huffed, grabbing his drink and standing up from the barstool, which was far too small for him. The brown-skinned man watched him with a confused expression. Russell looked at him seriously, placing one hand on his waist.
“Seriously, Lewis. You two need to sort this out; you can’t keep going like this. If you want to forget him, you need to put an end to it.” The brunette advised, letting his hand drop and smiling right after. “I’ll be with Lando—call me if you need anything, okay?” He patted Lewis’s shoulder and walked away from the bar.
Lewis remained in his spot, not believing he had just been scolded by a 26-year-old. He ran a hand through his braids and sighed, turning to look at the blond man in front of him, who stared back without blinking. Under that gaze, Lewis felt small, like a tiny ant.
Taking a deep breath, without an ounce of courage, he moved forward, not caring about anything else. Rosberg didn’t know how to react as his ex-teammate walked toward him; he hadn’t expected Lewis to have the will to come to him.
“Nico,” Lewis said when he finally stopped in front of him, his eyes colder than winter and wearing an expression Nico couldn’t decipher.
“Lewis. I didn’t think you’d come talk to me,” he replied, extending his hand. The man with ebony skin stared at it—at the hand of the man he had been in love with for so many years, the hand he used to shake at the end of races, the skin he used to kiss. He sighed. His hand reached out to Nico’s, shaking it.
“I thought it’d be rude not to greet you,” he said, though, in truth, he had been coerced. George wouldn’t have left him alone otherwise. Lewis tried to offer his best smile, but he couldn’t focus with those blue eyes locked on his.
“I think it would be good if we talked. Would you like that?” The blond hoped he would say yes; he wanted to be as close to Hamilton as possible. He missed him so much, and he didn’t know how to contain it in his chest.
Lewis choked on his words. He hadn’t expected Nico to be so sincere and direct. No, Lewis didn’t want to talk to him, much less be near him. This was torture—the way Nico made his hair stand on end, made his entire body tense—it wasn’t normal. His heart still beat fast; he felt his palms begin to sweat, so he stepped back and sighed.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” It was what George had suggested, but Lewis didn’t want that. He didn’t want to resolve anything. Leaving Nico in his memory was already more than a blessing—it kept him from feeling nervous.
“Please, Lewis. It’s just a conversation.”
It’s always just a conversation. But it never ends that way. They never just talk. Not because of Nico—Lewis had to admit that. Hamilton was the one who never wanted to talk. While the blond began speaking words that went in one ear and out the other, Lewis always found a way to kiss him. And, lucky for him, Rosberg never opposed it. And then they’d fuck.
But Lewis didn’t want that anymore—not conversations, not sex, not even locking eyes. He wanted to be completely far away from Nico Rosberg.
“It’s never just a conversation, Nico.” He finally said, taking a deep breath and looking into his eyes again to affirm, with precision, that he wasn’t going anywhere with him.
“Because of you. Because I want to resolve this, Lewis. Once and for all, can you just listen to me?” The blue-eyed man stepped closer, his presence leaving Lewis intoxicated. His heart raced, and he had to hold himself back from touching Rosberg. It was impossible not to be swayed by him.
“Nico, I don’t want to. You can take your conversation and your resolution elsewhere; I really don’t care.” Lewis gave his verdict but didn’t move to leave. His gaze drifted away from the blond, catching Charles and Max heading upstairs and disappearing. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to escape whatever was holding him back.
However, the blond didn’t want to let him go. Nico grabbed his forearm and pulled him toward him. The world around them stopped—it no longer mattered to him. All Nico wanted was to tell Lewis how exhausted he was from being apart. Hamilton wanted to run at that moment; he felt utterly humiliated by the way he was being pulled into Nico’s grasp. His heart pounded as the other man’s fingers clutched his skin. He looked at him once again, and Nico sighed, his expression sad and tired.
“Please, Lewis. Please.” His voice came out almost desperate, and the shimmer in his irises left the warm-skinned man in agony. He needed to see a smile on Nico’s lips one more time—and because of him.
The Mercedes driver hesitated for a while. He could still feel Nico’s fingers brushing against his skin, now caressing him as if to calm him. Finally, defeated, he gave in. His head nodded in affirmation, and the blond smiled, leaving Lewis burning inside. Nico’s pale hand trailed down his arm, and their fingers intertwined. Hand in hand, the two disappeared from the party.
Rosberg wanted to have a proper conversation, but there were no spare rooms. The only option he found was a bathroom that, despite being clean, wasn’t an ideal place. But it was what they had, and as soon as they entered, Nico closed the door.
“We’re doing this in a bathroom? Away from everyone?” Lewis questioned. Not that he minded being alone with him, but he knew they wouldn’t spend much time talking—oh, he’d never be able to hold back.
“Are you scared of me?” Nico asked with an amused tone, and Hamilton rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.
“It’s not you I’m afraid of. Now, please, start talking.” The British man with dark skin said, and the blond sighed, realizing he hadn’t thought of anything concrete to say. Still, he wanted to have this conversation.
Silence settled over the bathroom. Lewis wouldn’t look directly at him, and even Rosberg thought looking into his dark eyes wouldn’t be a good idea right now. The former driver didn’t know how to start such an important conversation—one that would decide a part of his life, a part he didn’t want to erase. But he wasn’t sure if Lewis would accept being his again.
“Are you just going to stand there?” Lewis said with a bored tone. He didn’t want to make it clear that the issue wasn’t spending a lot of time there, but rather being close to him without being able to touch him.
“Lewis, I want this fight to end. I don’t want to be in a relationship like this with you anymore. I want us to finally be okay, do you understand that? But all you do is run away and pretend I don’t exist,” he began, leaning against the wall, sighing and running a hand over his face. “I don’t want to keep thinking about the past or what happened. We both made mistakes, but we can make it better.”
“I don’t think there’s anything to fix. We have nothing left to talk about, we don’t have to be anything,” the older Brit said expressionlessly. His heart ached as he said this, but he didn’t want to let it show. “Nico, we ended a long time ago. And whatever happened in the past died there too.”
Nico slowly approached him, one step at a time, his bright blue eyes shining intensely toward Lewis’s dark ones. Hamilton wanted to run—he swore to God that he wanted to run out of that bathroom as fast as he could—but the way that gaze touched his own, the way Nico breathed, and the heat mingling between them… Lewis needed him so much. He wanted to take his lips, wrap his legs around him, and feel his weight on top of him. It was the only thing he could think about at that moment. The longing devoured his chest.
And Nico could only think because his eyes didn’t linger on just one part of Hamilton; they admired every place, and he tried to smile, tried to be sincere.
“Please, listen to me. I don’t want this to end, and I know you don’t either.” He touched his cheeks, massaging his cheekbones with one hand, tracing them, and smiled when Lewis sighed. He knew what he did to him—Hamilton could never lie about it. “I want you again. I want to forget all the mess we made. I just want you to be mine again.”
His face moved closer, and his nose brushed against Lewis’s, resting his forehead against his.
Lewis took a deep breath, his body trembling, and a strange chill passed through his stomach and down his abdomen. Hamilton ran a hand down his back, feeling his body, gripping his clothes. He gasped against him and buried his head in his shoulder. God, he loved him, how he loved him.
“Please, Nico, don’t do this to me. This is so unfair,” he said softly, his fingers brushing against him. Rosberg kissed his face, sighing, the damp kisses trailing across his dark skin, illuminated by the white lights of the bathroom.
“I can’t, I can’t…”
“You can, Lewis. Come back to me, please,” he whispered gently, wrapping his arms around his waist, caressing his shape, and resting his head on Lewis’s neck. “I just want you, I want you so much.”
Lewis couldn't stand it any longer, he didn't want to think about anything other than Rosberg. He grabbed the blond's body, squeezing his back. The man raised his head to look into his eyes, which were as black as the darkness, but which had a sparkle that reminded him of a starry night. And when he least expected it, Hamilton took the next step. He kissed him mouth slowly, their tongues touching softly, and their eyes locked as they adjusted for a warm kiss. The almond-skinned man touched Rosberg's neck, held him tightly against his shoulder, kissed him with all his strength and will, grunted as the kiss now became rapid, and Nico squeezed his waist with intensity.
Nico had also forgotten the promise he had made, that it would be a final conversation, and maybe he should care, but at that moment, it seemed as if everything had faded from his mind, becoming completely clear. All that came into his head was the way Lewis made soft sounds in his ear, the way he pushed himself up to rub his lower body against his, his eyes closed, and the dermis so beautiful and burning against him. It made him feel so good.
The blond grabbed his torso, pulling him up, sitting the smaller man on the sink. He settled between Lewis's legs, letting go of his lips just to get some air, the onyx balls met the sapphires, and they couldn't contain themselves any longer. In a flash, the younger Brit pulled down his pants, his pupils expanding in size as his strong, luscious thighs came into view.
“You just get more and more beautiful every time I see you, darling.” Nico grinned, and Hamilton laughed softly, wrapping his arms around his neck to watch him. He had the most beautiful blue eyes I'd ever seen in my life. He was like heaven, so clear and glorious, and that's how Lewis felt. In heaven.
“You talk too much, Nico.” He answered without taking his eyes off him, and then grabbed the back of his head to hold him in his hands once more. He kissed him gently, him hands reaching inside his blouse and touching his strong, white back.
Nico held him tight against that sink, not caring how big it was. He kissed and squeezed Lewis against that piece of furniture, one of his hands squeezing the soft skin of his thighs, rubbing against his belly, and feeling the moans coming from his lips. The man at the sink squeezed his blond hair between his fingers as he moaned and threw himself at the blond, who squeezed his hips in return. By the time Nico touched the hem of his underwear, Hamilton had given up thinking, because his body was acting on its own, he was already aroused, and the way Rosberg ran his eyes over his thighs, the way his hands squeezed his hips, down his ass, to perfectly fit his body to his. There was no turning back, Lewis was lost and they were really fucking.
Lewis groaned and his teeth bit his lips hard as he wet both digits with his mouth, then Nico put them inside Hamilton. The way the sink moved must have been frightening, but nothing was fearful when Lewis Hamilton moaned and wriggled against his fingers. He fucked Lewis in that bathroom, as if everything was casual. Was it casual? They were both asking that question, afraid of what those answers might be, but in that second, the way Lewis let out happy, pleasurable murmurs when Nico slipped his fingers in and out of him, made Rosberg forget.
If he forgot that after that, Lewis would never look him in the eye again. If he forgot that when it was over, Hamilton would quickly run away from him. The blond didn't like that, he wanted to be as close to him as possible, he wanted to be with the man who was so talented and special. He sighed when Lewis scratched the back of his neck with his short nails, Nico returning the contact with a strong grip around his waist. The moans echoing in the bathroom were driving him crazy. Rosberg finally let a sideways smile escape his lips when Lewis threw his head back. The former racer moved closer to him, leaving kisses on his neck, his hand moved to the older man's aroused member, and bit his lips, as he began to masturbate him, Lewis gasped and moaned, squeezing his shoulder.
“What's taking you so long?” The brown-skinned man murmured, while making pleasurable noises, digging his nails into his shoulder.
“I want it to be unforgettable, so that you never run away from me again.” Nico held his neck, saying softly into his ear, his nose caressing his extremely hot and sweaty skin, he let the tense air out of that place. Hamilton pulled his body closer, almost begging him to fuck him. He was completely desperate. “Do you promise never to forget me?”
“Fuck, Nico. Not even if I wanted to.” The shorter man gasped as Rosberg pulled his fingers out of him and began to pull down his own pants. Lewis didn't know if he was making the right choice, nor if he should continue at that moment, because he knew he wouldn't stay.
But he still didn't object when Nico picked him up and placed him against the wall, his hands resting on the cold, white marble. He took off his shirt and his own, leaving them both completely naked. Rosberg sighed deeply, looking at the beautiful body in front of him, the beautiful skin that the blond loved to mark with his fingers, squeezing the dermis, watching it sink in. Nico had always admired Lewis for being so magically beautiful, there was no way he could make him ugly.
“Are you going to stare at me much longer?” Lewis said softly, feeling a little embarrassed by the way Nico was staring at him. He felt hot, both because he was dull and because he needed him so much. At that moment, all the man wanted was to have Rosberg inside him.
“I just wanted to look at you one more time, to make sure that the man I'm going to be fucking right now... is the love of my life.” The blond said and Lewis wanted to cry, he felt tears fill his eyes, but he didn't say anything, his head rested against the wall, he gasped when he felt wet kisses being distributed across his back. “I know there's nothing you want to talk about, so just enjoy it, I'm going to make you feel all my love, darling.”
Lewis knew he would. Nico always did. The man always treated him with the utmost affection, usually loved him with the utmost care and pleasure. Lewis couldn't regret that, he never did. But the only thing that made him fearful was handing over his feelings, to accept that he had been completely in love with Nico Rosberg for all these years. Hamilton sighed as pale, soft hands touched the shape of his waist, squeezing him tightly, his belly rubbing against the almond-skinned boy's ass. The moans that echoed in the room made Nico sigh and roll his eyes, searching for more.
He grabbed Lewis's braids, his cock still rubbing against his bands, causing his cheeks to flush and his body to combust internally. Pulling his head back, he could hear a loud moan and a high-pitched scream coming from his mouth. Hamilton was waiting for him to make it his, so his whole body was begging for it. Rosberg smiled as he began to pin him down with his legs, pulling him closer, feeling his member push against him and pass through his sensitive parts.
“Nico, please...” The black-skinned man pleaded, begging for the blond, who bit his lips, and grabbed the handsome thighs to squeeze them closer to him.
Nico let out a deep sigh, reaching down for his pants, searching for a condom. He stood up again, masturbating quickly as he put the condom on. He moved Lewis into a more comfortable position, placing kisses all over his tanned back and grabbing his waist. The blond finally penetrated him, and groaned loudly as he felt himself inside him. The older man groaned and took a deep breath between gasps. Nico grabbed his tresses again, pulling back as he moved slowly, his mouth gently kissing his neck. He wasn't going with all his might, or in a hurry, because he was afraid of hurting him, especially since it had been so long since that had happened.
“Being with you like this is so good... I love making love to you, baby.” He said softly, caressing his body and kissing his neck and the back of his neck, starting to speed up his movements.
“Nico...” His name was whispered as if to say that he agreed, that he believed it too. Still begging for more, he took a deep, gasping breath and moaned louder as Rosberg moved harder.
The blond kept coming and going, his hands squeezing every mold of his almond-skinned body, kissing and biting his way up his back, his nose inhaling the scent of the shorter man, rubbing against his neck and hair. Lewis just moaned, feeling completely ecstatic, his heart beating absolutely fast, and his dermis burning from it. Suddenly, he felt Nico pull out of him to thrust in again, Hamilton groaned loudly, banging his head against the wall, his hand going to his blond hair from behind, grabbing the golden strands and pulling hard. Nico felt complete, he hoped that after everything, Lewis wouldn't run away from him again. Because he wouldn't survive without him ever again, because being there, making love to the man he had fallen in love with all this time, shouldn't happen just once.
When Rosberg hit his spot, Lewis roared, his eyes rolled back in pleasure, and his cheeks exploded into a boiling red. He closed his eyes, feeling a tear of pleasure run down his cheek, and pushed himself harder against his body, desperately waiting for Nico to continue his thrusts. He rested his hands on the walls, spread wide, his fingers confused and trembling, as he thrust in and out, hitting his pleasure point. This caused their bodies to shake slightly and sweat to drip off them. Nico finally turned to face him, looking into his eyes, the braids already falling all over his face, tears of pleasure wetting his cheeks, his mouth trembling slightly, Rosberg couldn't resist and moved closer to kiss him intensely. Lewis returned the kiss with all his love, his arms embracing the bigger man with all his strength, their hearts racing together, their breaths mixing between them.
While still stirring inside Hamilton, Nico pulled him onto his lap, it was a bit of a difficult position, but he was smiling, while still kissing him, coming onto Lewis, his nails gripping his waist. The older man grabbed his neck, pulled his hair, leaned his forehead against his, and moved against his cock, panting, almost out of breath. Rosberg touched him, forgot, and began a slow masturbation, leaving his mouth to kiss and suck his neck, while moving faster and harder, Hamilton wasting no time as he rolled against him. When Nico finally hit Lewis's prostate once more, they roared together with pleasure, reaching their climaxes. The blond kissed the brown-skinned man and stroked his back lovingly as he left him sitting on the sink again. The shorter man sighed as he pulled away a little, looking at him panting and tired.
“You're so beautiful.” Nico said softly, his free, clean hand running over his face, while the other wiped at the sink with hot water. He helped clean Lewis up and gave him a loving, tender kiss, smiling at him with his blue eyes.
“Nico...” He tried to speak but was silenced by another kiss, his hand squeezed the back of his neck in desperation, he felt his heart beat fast, and he wanted to cry. He loved him so much.
They exchanged more kisses, some slow and some fast, even intense. Lewis didn't want to let go so he wouldn't have to admit that he still loved him, and Rosberg didn't want to let go so he wouldn't run away. After a few minutes of this, Nico finally sighed, picked up his clothes and got dressed. He helped Lewis get dressed too. The two were silent, but the copper-skinned man got up from the sink and looked at him, holding his hand.
“I can't accept you now.” He began, his voice low as if he were afraid to say what he wanted. His eyes passed through blue irises and pale skin. “Really, right now, I need to think about everything.” She pulled away, her hands letting go of his. The man remained silent after Nico didn't reply, then bent down to pick up his clothes.
“Lewis.” He called out, and the other man still picking up his clothes, Nico went over to him. His nose brushed the older man's neck, and he sighed, hugging him from behind. Hamilton froze when the blond's arms wrapped tightly around him, he let his head rest on his shoulder, and a tear fell from his eye. “I'll wait for you as long as it takes, just please, think about everything with care. And come back to me.”
“Thank you…” He whispered softly, turning to him. His hand traced imaginary lines on his cheeks, and then he kissed his forehead. “I promise I’ll give you an answer.”
Rosberg smiled at him, his crystalline eyes shining beautifully, and let him go. Hoping it wouldn’t be the last time he saw Lewis like this, he wanted to stay with him. Truly, this time. When Lewis got dressed and left, Nico did the same, his heart far too confused to explain.
A few days passed, and it was the final race. Nico watched Lewis’s last race with Mercedes, his heart aching because he knew how difficult this would be for him. The man had spent so many years with that team; it was significant in bringing the two of them together, in helping Hamilton grow, and the blond man was immensely proud of who the brown-skinned man had become. Even though Lewis hadn’t made up his mind yet, Nico never stopped telling him how much he respected him and spoke often of his talents and accomplishments.
When the race ended, Nico noticed how much Lewis was crying, thanking the car and how emotional it all was. Nico wanted to run to him, to hug him tightly with all his strength. But he had to restrain himself; he couldn’t just go there and grab him. It was so hard not being able to do that. Then came the time for interviews. After three people had been interviewed, it was Lewis’s turn, and Nico stood waiting. He felt like the other wouldn’t come for the interview, but he still had a little hope. Yet his body wasn’t prepared when he saw Lewis approach, his braids swaying across his head, falling beautifully. His eyes were red from the recent crying, but a faint smile lingered on his lips.
“Hi, Nico.” He greeted as if it were normal. Rosberg felt his heart pounding against his chest and swallowed hard. He realized they were still being recorded and took a deep breath, smiling as they began the interview.
The whole time, their gazes met, and they smiled at each other. They both wanted to simply jump and hug each other tightly, but they held back. However, Hamilton had a plan, and even if the whole world stopped in that moment, he wouldn’t back down. When the interview ended, Rosberg lowered the microphone, falling silent as he stared at the man for whom he harbored this gigantic love. If he hadn’t been prepared for Lewis to show up there, he was even less prepared for what happened next. The shorter man took the mic away, keeping it out of sight. He stepped closer, holding Nico’s cheeks, squeezing them between his fingers. Ignoring the shrill screams and confused voices around them, he simply leaned in, and his lips touched Nico’s.
The crowd screamed, roared. Lewis felt a wave of panic flood his body, but he didn’t pull away. What he was doing now was far more important than any fear that might exist.
The blond man was completely stunned; he felt as if he were dreaming. His eyes were wide, and his skin was covered in goosebumps. He couldn’t believe what was happening—the man he was in love with was there, kissing him, in front of the whole world. He couldn’t let him wait any longer. Rosberg pulled him close and kissed him back firmly, holding his waist carefully to bring him even closer.
The crowd continued to scream, and the Mercedes team looked surprised—some, not so much. George was shouting in celebration at what he was witnessing. Max was stunned, while Charles and Carlos, who had previously held sad expressions, now laughed. A perspective had shifted, leaving the world in perplexity and some in happiness.
Slowly, Lewis began to pull back, their lips parting, as he gave a smile. Nico seemed to be in a state of euphoria; he picked up the smaller man and spun him around, planting a quick kiss on him. Hamilton looked around and felt his cheeks burning, but he was proud of what he had done.
“So… is that a yes? Tell me I didn’t misunderstand,” Nico said with an excited smile, his hands still holding Lewis’s waist. Lewis let out a shy laugh, resting his head against Nico’s shoulder as they saw the journalists rushing toward them.
“You didn’t misunderstand, but I think we should get out of here. We have a lot to talk about,” Lewis said, leaving a kiss on Nico’s cheek as they headed toward the Mercedes paddock. Nico was so overwhelmed with happiness that he felt like he could explode.
When they reached the paddock’s lounge, they shut the door behind them so they could finally look at each other calmly. When sapphire met onyx, they smiled again. Lewis jumped into Nico’s arms, while Nico held his body tightly.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you for being with me,” Nico said over and over, his hands gripping the fabric of Lewis’s clothes tightly, his lips placing kisses all over his pale face.
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, Lewis. You are completely mine,” Nico smiled at him, letting his fingers trace through Lewis’s hair, gently playing with his braids.
“I love you. So much,” Hamilton said after some time. And that was all that mattered.
“I love you, too,” Rosberg replied, though they both already knew. Still, it felt good to finally say it—after so much time of holding back.
They stayed embraced for a long time because, at that moment, there was no other place they wanted to be—just in each other’s arms.