Chapter Text
Jenson hadn't paid it much attention when he'd heard Nico Rosberg had made it to F1. Straight after winning GP2 and signing to Williams. He did remember when the younger version of the boy had almost messed up his introduction to his father and couldn't help but chuckle. So that pipsqueak had made it to F1.
Jenson had noted that the boy was pretty much like himself in the earlier days which had led to the inevitable moniker of Britney. He did believe it was better than his playboy reputation atleast. Not sure about his supposed boy band career.
He also noted Rosberg, Nico to be conceited, the typical Nepotism kid, as though his place was guaranteed in the world of F1. And God the thought made his stomach turn. When he was practically scrambling for scraps to stay afloat with all the teams that thought he was good. Enough to keep him as a choice but never as the one. To try and buy him back when it convenienced them. Ofcourse he'd rejected them then. Which incidentally probably meant he was the reason Rosberg, Nico got his seat. (Or that he'd partner up with the brat.)
All in all it was a normal impression, for an F1 driver.
So when 2006 rolled around it was a normal season of racing with coworkers, partying with coworkers and sleeping around with said coworkers.
Look screw him that Raikkönen was good to look at and so was Alonso. And Rosberg, Nico too. Not that he'd gotten a chance to sleep with him.
But really, just normal stuff, for an F1 driver.
And when 2007 rolled around and he was on track for the lowest finish in his career, the ring of green hell really liked living upto it's name.
Spun off on lap 2.
He was completely down in the dumps when he ran into the said man Rosberg, Nico.
Nico had spun off himself.
And he saw the boy with the rookie, he scoffed at the term considering his performance, Hamilton. He decided to spy on them, just gauging the competition.
“He equalised already!” Hamilton said.
“You're two points ahead, you know?” Nico had countered firm but gentle as though it was the most logical thing in the world. “One bad race doesn't make or break a championship.”
Hamilton leaned into the boy and he just smiled slightly before holding him close.
“It'll all be alright.”
He couldn't help but stare incredulously. He would never find it in him to comfort someone when his own race was that shitty and certainly not the championship leader. But well, not his business he figured, and went about his not so merry way.
A new German appeared on the paddock soon, technically he had been there before, but now he seemed to be a permanent part of the grid.
The said German twink, he knew the boy was a twink because Vettel would routinely flirt with anything that started with the letters Kimi Raikkönen, was making his framework need upgrades.
He had to sort his feelings out, like an objective evaluation, if you will. Because the Omega was cute, but he seriously didn't get the so-called locker room talks about him. They did make him feel revolted actually, and he mentally made a note on who to never interact much with again.
Besides he was sure Nico and himself were more worthy of the title of prettiest boys.
Anyways he digresses. The season was going shitty as is and then in China, Vettel equalised on points. Splendid. The only thing that kept him going now was the way Raikkönen had clawed his way back to the fight. And the paddock rumors regarding the said German and his supposed penchant for the championship contenders. Well he did see them sneaking off after the race and a few too many paddock walks together.
And then relief came in the form of the party thrown by Ferrari. He could finally forget this season and relax, finally. He looked around, no signs of Alonso, or Hamilton either. Probably a season they'd want to forget. Wipe clean of their memory.
No signs of Britney too, he noted. Probably comforting Hamilton again.
Anyways he could forget this season and relax, finally.
Or maybe he spoke too soon again.
Because everyone and their mothers had made it their mission to get Vettel drunk. He sobered up instantly. He knew exactly what that meant. And he'd be damned if he let that happen to anyone else. It was fairly easy to stir the boy into his orbit and then all he had to do was make sure he didn't touch any more drinks. Atleast his drunk antics were funny. And the fact that he got to see him all but make out with the Finn he clearly, oh so clearly, liked was a very entertaining end to the season.
The next season started and the car was shit. He had been confident, they had trained extra hard before three races happened and he'd realised his confidence had been severely misplaced.
After his second collision of the season he needed an early forget-everything-night. And so he found himself on his way to another who was surely down in the dumps too. Ofcourse he felt apologetic to him too.
“Going somewhere?” a voice stopped him.
Jenson was more startled than he'd like to admit. But he replied nevertheless.
“What's it to you Britney?” He spat.
Nico squared up. “You have a bottle of wine, a scent of annoyance and are heading towards the only Omega driver on the grid. Forgive me if you seem suspicious.” He all but gnarled. And in that moment Jenson understood. He was worried for Vettel. Which– he tried to argue, but then closed his mouth– fair point.
“This is an apology for messing up his races. I don't have any intentions. Except getting blackout drunk to just forget it all.” The moment the words left his mouth he felt the boy relax the faintest breath, though it did not seem to convince him fully.
“Right, and I take your words at face value because.”
“I mean you can join us, the more the merrier,” he answered, endeared and annoyed at the same time.
Nico looked him up and down. And okay he decided the burden of proof was upon him.
“Look, there is nothing I can say that proves my words. And I get your concern, I really do.” He said and maybe the meaning of his words finally reached because Nico relented.
“Alright,” he sighed. “One hair out of line and you're getting dozed off the track, next race.”
Jenson gulped at the tone of the voice and nodded. Nico meant business.
Jenson took the warning to heart and though they did end up sleeping together, it was truly drunken shenanigans. They'd ended up drinking more than what he'd brought and the comforting cuddles soon turned to makeout sessions and then more.
The next time he met Nico was at Kimi's Yacht party and the ordeal that took place that day was another thing he'd like to forget. It really was a shitty time wasn't it?
Seb had stormed off the party after what had seemed an emotionally charged conversation with his not-lover. And he'd found himself following the boy just behind Nico and Hamilton.
It was for the drama he told himself, even as he made sure to form a barrier so no one could approach Seb and Nico. Even as he stared Kimi down when the man wanted to approach them. Nico didn't want anyone approaching Seb, and Ofcourse he didn't want anyone to see them so vulnerable. But mainly he had an image to keep as the paddock’s gossip keeper. And that's why he drove them back, because gossip wasn't much use if everyone knew about it.
Through the way back Jenson could feel the tension like electric current in the air. Even when they had settled themselves at his house they were still unsettled. Every breath was too loud. Every movement was too big, and all the scents still tinged with rot. Jenson got up, he needed to do something. He got them all lavender and chamomile tea. And offered them a bath, if they so chose it. Oh God he was being a proper host to people he barely knew. He blanched.
Hamilton took him on the offer and Nico decided to instead collect the cups once they were all done.
Seb had withdrawn into himself and Jenson felt an instinctual pull to comfort the boy. He shook his head. That was very unneeded here. Instead he made himself useful by bringing a few pillows and blankets from his guestroom.
Seb accepted them gratefully. And Jenson made himself scarce into the kitchen. Right next to Nico.
“You didn't have to.”
“I couldn't calm myself down.”
Jenson simply nodded.
“You- you know he's been out of it for so long. And-and I-I don't know what to do!” Nico started, the cup he was washing now clenched tightly in his hands. Jenson was startled at the sudden outburst. ‘The Nico-can handle anything-Rosberg’, breaking down? He drew a blank. He couldn't handle his own self at the best of times. What was he supposed to do when the epitome of calm and composed was facing a crisis? “Y-you remember the way I threatened you?”
Jenson did, a sudden guilt hitting him. And he wondered if now was the time to mention it, the way they went further than they should have. He took a deep breath, squashing his own thoughts for another time.
“Take a deep breath, I'm here.” He said despite panicking, mimicking his psychologist's words. He needed to keep a calm head.
Nico did as told. “It’s just—”
“Hypothetically, is it about Seb?” Jenson prompted.
And Nico stared at him, eyes wide with disbelief.
“Just hypothetically.”
Nico nodded.
Jenson felt a sense of accomplishment. “And hypothetically,” right he had to find out what it was before he could continue this hypothetical business. He face-palmed mentally. “Speaking…” right he'll make something up. “You're worried, I actually did do something to him?’
Nico's eyes widened. “Did you too?” He said out loud and Jenson caught the ‘too’.
“It was a drunken one night stand.” He mentioned in an attempt to reassure him. And he continued, not willing to dwell upon the look Nico gave him. “But, hypothetically speaking, do you feel that someone else…” he let the question hang
Nico turned away sharply, his lips pursed now. Right, so there was something there. Just as he was racking his brains to think of a connection Nico spoke up.
“You’re an alpha right? Hypothetically speaking, can you sign someone as your rut partner without ever consulting them.” he said slowly.
Jenson sucked in a breath. That was a strict no.
He shook his head. “Hypothetically speaking if I did that, it'd be assault.”
“But what if that assigned person agrees later on when they were called upon in the middle of your rut. Then it's— It's okay right?”
Jenson wasn't sure he heard it right.
“When the rut has already begun?”
Nico nodded.
“Nico. You know it too. You know that's still coercion.” Jenson said softly.
And Nico turned to look at him, tears in his eyes. “I know. But it's my best friend.”
And Jenson realised.
“Hamilton?”
Nico said nothing.
Jenson’s heart ached.
“Sorry.” Nico said again. This time wiping his tears. “I shouldn't have. We're not even close. And here I am.”
“It's not your fault.”
“Thank you. I was clinging to a false hope, even though I knew it.”
“Do you want me to talk with him?”
“No. I will do it myself. Something I should have done long ago instead of trying to escape this.” Nico was back to his self-assured demeanour. As though the mask had never cracked.
Jenson felt hollow. This was not how the night was supposed to go.