𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝑡𝑜𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝑜𝑙𝑓𝑓 𝑓𝑖𝑐

8. frisky tilly

NOTE
LIGHTS OUT — a formula one written fics/one shot collection is now available!  enjoy xx

viii. frisky tilly

Mercedes got the P1. As I wished quietly.

Even at the very beginning of the season, I've always been confident that this was going to be Lewis' year. He didn't exactly hide the fact that he's worked for it.

It wasn't just that; he also won his home race. So while Christian and the Red Bull crew are upset that Mercedes took the lead, I certainly am jumping up and down in joy. In secret.

I will always be a Lewis supporter first and a girl in a Red Bull jacket second.

I made sure to tell him that I'd be there as soon as my job was done for the day. By that, I meant that I need to make sure Christian and the other Red Bull personnel are recognizing Daniel's P3 finish in public, not bitch about Mercedes getting another P1 and P2 — with Williams' Valtteri Bottas finishing. They've landed on the podium.

I'm sticking with Daniel the entire time, my eyes are keeping an eye out for Christian and Vettel in case they need me.

Waiting patiently inside the Cool Down room, my hand sticks out a towel in Daniel's direction. He looks at me with a questioning smile. "Wipe off your sweat. You'll catch a cold."

"Mother Tilly, you're so sweet," he coos, but his teasing smile eventually goes away as he thanks me. "You coming out to celebrate later?"

"Celebrate what?" I ask him, wondering if there's a party hosted after the race. If there was, I wasn't told. Or I'm not invited. "I don't recall Horner telling me about a celebration."

"Oh no," he shakes his head before leaning in to whisper in my ear, "we don't party with the bosses all the time. I'm talking about just anyone that isn't the boss."

I frown, "You called me Lady Boss more than twice."

He wraps his arm around me, pulling me close as he looks at me with a lazy smirk, "We do like to party with powerful women. We all know what's behind all of that dominance."

I recoil, pushing him away with a dirty look as he bursts out of laughter. His amusement affects my own as I smile, snatching the towel he dried himself off with and smacking him with it.

"Such a perverted thing to say, Ricciardo," I smack him again, this time my hand lands on his chest lightly.

"Between you and Toto someone's got to give up some control— OW JESUS, TILLY!" Daniel wheezes as I slap him again. If he couldn't stop speaking, I suppose smacking the air out of his lungs would do it.

The bad thing about our banter is that Lewis caught onto it. He takes my vulnerable situation as an opportunity to sling his arm around me. "Daniel, what were you trying to tell her again? Look at her, she's so flushed!"

"Just because you're the champion it doesn't mean you get to make fun of me, Lewis Hamilton," I try to push him off but he's giggling and has his arm around me still. Daniel does the same, putting me in between the two of them as they continue to joke around with me.

It doesn't take long until they're called up to the podium to be presented with Lewis' trophy. The crowd roars in excitement and cameras click and flash. I'm standing at the side, the sight of the top three has me squirming in happiness. Each of them has a bottle of champagne in hand and it doesn't take Daniel, Valtteri and Lewis long to pop the cork.

My brain begins to melt at the overwhelming excitement that takes over my body.

I'm not sure if this is just a temporary thing, but I know for a fact that it feels so... euphoric.

The moment I'm in the haze, my rational thoughts and actions are long forgotten.

Lewis turns to look at the side, gesturing at something that isn't me. At first I wanted to ask if he's speaking to me, but a pair of heavy hands settled on my hips as I heard a, "'Scuse me, Schatz."

My head snaps at Toto's direction as he walks up to celebrate with Bottas and Lewis. The Mercedes Team Principal, as if he's anticipating it, lifted his chin up as Lewis showered him with the champagne. The alcohol wastes no time to soak his face down to his shirt, him grinning mischievously as Valteri continues to soak him too.

My brain short circuited for a second, and my eyes involuntarily watched as Toto's right hand ran through his now-damp hair. I haven't even paid attention to anyone but him. Daniel has taken this as a chance to drag me to where he was once and showered me with champagne.

"Daniel! What the fu—" but all I hear is hollering. From the crowd. From the drivers on the podium. From my family, who are standing by the front. I can see Sylvie and Stevie with their phones out, probably taking the most embarrassing photos that will last a lifetime.

My baby blue button-up is soaking wet, I'm thankful that I never wore full makeup besides from the tube of red lipstick that I bring with me.

Daniel continues to encourage me to drink, and just to fuck around, my mouth opens up with my chin lifted as Daniel hollers and pours champagne into my mouth. The liquid splatters and the euphoria washes over me. My eyes are trained at Toto for a moment, watching him as he continues to look at his driver proudly before he turns to look at me with a smug smile.

I can't even say anything to him, my brain has left. And even if I do say something, Daniel has already beaten me to it by nudging me.

I grin as I witness him drink champagne on his shoe— they call it a shoey. It's an Australian thing, I believe. At this moment I wonder what kind of tradition did Britain have. But my brain disappears once more when he offers me his shoe.

My mind said no for a moment, but what did I have to lose?

My hand snatches the alcohol-filled wear, cringing at the burning sensation that fills my throat as I wipe my mouth. A grin remains in my lips as everyone begins to clap for the winners.

I can't help but look at Toto, who returns my look as he winks and smirks. Like he's got tricks up his sleeve to show. I roll my eyes with exaggeration, chuckling as I mouth, "Congratulations."

If this won't make it to the sports headlines, then I don't know what will.