Cigarette Daydreams

2018

A/N: I should split this chapter into two parts, but I got too lazy, and there are probably too many grammatical errors, because I finished it when I was very sleepy. Sorry :(

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It's like last season, at least the first three races, it's 2018 and Lewis won't take long to regain control of his championship, because yes, if anyone is going to be a five-time champion first, it's him, not Vettel. He feels carefree, parading around the paddock as if he were the owner, people ask him about records, it seems so tangible now being at the technical level he is, so he allows himself to dream of being the best, he allows himself to think he is the best, because in reality he is the best and everyone knows it.

He hardly thinks about Max, hardly, except for the countless times he finds himself staring at the blonde during race weeks, or the nights he's alone in the hotel, or the party nights when he watches Max from afar. Fuck, maybe he thinks too much, in his defense, when he disconnects from the world of Formula 1, he can forget the dutchman, unfortunately for him, the sport takes up a lot of his time.

As if last year wasn't terrible enough, Max and Daniel seem to be getting closer and closer, and Lewis is increasingly confused about their relationship. Max follows the australian around like he's begging for attention and approval, sometimes he feels sorry for him, sometimes he wishes Max would beg him for attention and approval, and fuck it, he would be lying if he didn't know that he would gladly give anything Max wanted.

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It's in Baku that Lewis watches everything fall apart, while he's taking his lead in the championship, Max and Daniel collapse. He watches the moment of the crash, he can blame the dutchman's youth for the unfair movement, he also watches the moment they get out of the car, Daniel's face furious, Max's face covered by his helmet, he's certainly angry and ashamed at the same time. Lewis wonders what Max's next move will be.

He finds out later at a party, he wasn't expecting it, definitely not, but he finds Max in the middle of the crowd staring at him, red lights illuminating his innocently sad eyes. Lewis doesn't know if he should give in, maybe staying with Max now means thinking about him even more, something that Lewis has been vehemently trying to combat, but looking back, he feels he owes the dutchman, and deep down, he desperately wants to. So, he walks calmly over to the man standing in the middle of the dance floor.

When they are face to face, Max approaches him to talk into his ear. "Do you want to get out of here?"

"I thought Red Bull was going to lock you up in boring debriefings about how not to hit your teammate." Lewis throws more salt in the wound, he feels like an idiot doing it, but he doesn't care, even if deep down he does.

"Is that what Mercedes did to you and Nico?" Max doesn't mince his words, of course not.

Lewis's face contorts in irritation, but he knows he deserved it. "Let's go." He says, leading Max away.

On the way to the hotel Lewis feels like he's dealing with a teenager, Max is so nervous, the restless leg is disturbing the brit's mind, he puts his hand on Max's thigh trying to calm down the blond, it doesn't work, With a heavy sigh, he raises his hand almost to Max's groin and tightens it, it's like a warning, this time it works, but Max still looks at him with lost puppy eyes, it's too much for Lewis, so he looks away until they are safely inside the room.

"Do you think it was my fault?" Max asks, already in the bedroom and before Lewis can get close enough to do anything.

"Yes." Lewis has no reason to lie, Max is not a kid.

"Okay, I know, it's obviously my fault, like, I know that I fucked up." Max looks down at his feet.

"So? What are you going to do about it?" Lewis sits down on the bed, knowing that Max will keep talking.