#i hope u like the nando cameo !!! also i tagged this fic with the right ship this time asdfgfds

[lewishamil10n]

here it is finally!!! bday valewis for @milflewis <333 happy birthday once more, i love you sooooo much!! sorry it's late, but i hope you enjoy it anyway <333

—

By the end of the second hour, even Valtteri was beginning to get antsy.

“Would you sit still!” Lewis snapped, after the third time Valtteri’s knee accidentally hit him in the side.

“Well, now you know how it feels,” Valtteri retorted. “You are so much more fidgety than I am!”

“I’m not this bad.”

“True… you’re worse.”

Lewis glared at him. Valtteri glared back. The effect was somewhat ruined due to the lack of light in the tiny space.

“For God’s sake,” Lewis said in the end, looking away so he could check his phone. “It’s been two hours!” His foot had been asleep for ages. Any longer and he was genuinely afraid it might fall off.

Valtteri, who was squished beside him, sighed. “Do you think they forgot us in here?”

“I’ll kill them,” Lewis muttered.

He had been in a variety of situations in his life, and he was proud to say he handled them all with some modicum of grace and patience. Occasional yelling and cursing, yes, and the memorable time he poured milk in Nico’s suitcase and let it stew for a night before Nico discovered it — but, for the most part, grace and patience.

This, however, had to be the strangest thing that had happened to him.

“How did we even end up here?” Valtteri said glumly.

“Well, George said you needed me so I came to see where you were, and then it turned out you were for some reason in this stupid little closet, and then we got locked in here, in the dark,” Lewis recapped succinctly.

“I was being rhetorical,” Valtteri said after a moment.

“I wasn’t,” Lewis retorted. Then, softer, “Sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. It’s just ridiculous, isn’t it?”

“Being stuck in a closet? No, this has always been my greatest dream,” Valtteri said sarcastically.

“Wow,” said Lewis after a moment. “Familiarity does breed contempt.”

“We have seen bits of each other very few other people have,” Valtteri pointed out. “It’s not familiarity, it’s the fact that both my legs are asleep and so is my butt.”

“I didn’t even know they made broom closets this small,” Lewis said, choosing to ignore the first part of Valtteri’s sentence for his own sanity. “How many brooms can you fit in this one anyway? Like, three?”

“Three brooms and two men,” said Valtteri dryly. “Have you managed to contact anyone yet?”

“Toto isn’t picking up, George’s phone is off, Mick seems to have tossed his in a lake, and no one is replying to me on the group chat,” Lewis listed off.

“Try Guanyu,” Valtteri suggested, not for the first time.

“I forgot to save his number,” Lewis reminded him, not for the first time.

“Check the drivers’ group chat.”

“Valtteri, I literally only have yours, George’s, Mick’s and Daniel’s numbers saved. And half of them don’t have profile pictures. I literally can’t tell which number is Guanyu’s.”

“Try them all, then.”

“My phone is at 3%, Val.”

“Power bank?”

“In my bag at the garage.”

“So we’re fucked?”

“Pretty much,” confirmed Lewis.

Valtteri sighed again, and then squirmed until he was in a more comfortable position. His elbow hit Lewis in the side, who made a muffled sound of indignation but otherwise decided to be nice about it. 

“Better settle in, then,” Valtteri said glumly.

“Already have,” Lewis said.

The closet really was tiny. They were sitting on the floor pressed against each other, with Lewis between the wall and Valtteri, and both of them next to a disgustingly smelly mop. It smelled like someone had used it to mop up broken eggs, and then just not washed it. Lewis had been nauseous for the past hour and a half because of it.

“Who told you I needed you anyway?” Valtteri asked, after a few moments.

“George,” Lewis said. “He said you needed my help urgently.”

“Why would I need your help in the Aston Martin hospitality?”

Lewis shrugged. The movement was difficult in the tight space. “I didn’t question it, Val, all I cared about what that you needed me.” Then, “How did you end up here anyway?”

“Guanyu said you needed my help,” Valtteri replied, and then went still.

Both of them arrived at the same conclusion at the same time. “Oh my God, they played us,” Lewis said.

“This is a plot,” realized Valtteri. “A scheme. A — a conspiracy.”

“For what, though?” wondered Lewis.

“Also, why Aston Martin?”

“Yeah, why Aston Martin? Did you know I had to see Fernando on my way up here?” Lewis made a face. “He’s so annoying.”

Valtteri made a sound of exasperation. “Never mind Fernando,” he said. “Try calling someone else, Lewis. Call Lance if you have to—”

“I told you, I don’t have anyone’s numbers—”

A sad little chime from Lewis’s phone interrupted them. Both of them watched in dismay as the screen turned off.

“Dead?” asked Valtteri, like he already knew the answer.

“Dead,” Lewis confirmed, morose. He shoved it back into his pocket and thumped his head back against the wall. “Now what?”

“Someone must have realized we are missing, right?” Valtteri sounded like he was trying to convince himself. “They’ll find us—”

“Val, it’s been two hours,” Lewis said glumly. “And even if they’re looking for us, why would they look in freaking Aston Martin?”

Valtteri exhaled. “This is terrible,” he muttered, letting his head fall back against the wall too. “We are stuck here, in this tiny space, next to this stupid smelly mop, a dead phone, and no one to hear us yelling or banging the door. What the hell?”

“Well,” sighed Lewis. “If I had to be stuck with anyone though, I’m glad it’s you. I’m pretty sure if it was anyone else I would have killed them by now.”

“Even Mick?” Valtteri asked. “Or Sebastian?”

Lewis shrugged. “Probably,” he said with a little laugh. “Mick because he would take up too much space, and Sebastian because he would annoy me.”

Valtteri snorted at that. “Fair enough,” he allowed. Then, “If it helps, I’m glad it’s you, too. Not glad I’m stuck — but if I have to be, I’m glad it’s with you.”

“Aw, that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Lewis said after a moment.

“You’re not serious?” In the low light coming in from the slats of the door, Lewis could see Valtteri frown. “Do you really think I don’t say nice things to you?”

“What— Val, no, I’m just kidding,” Lewis said, a little bewildered at the sudden change in tone. 

Valtteri seemed to be taking this more seriously than Lewis intended, going by the way he was still frowning. “I know I am not very expressive,” he began.

“Val, you’re fine,” Lewis said. “Swear. You don’t need to, like, say anything, I always know what you mean. I know you, man. I know you care. About — about me.”

“Still,” Valtteri said after a moment. “Maybe sometimes it’s nice to say it.”

“Maybe,” conceded Lewis, “but, you know, you don’t need to say anything you don’t want to just ‘cause you think it’s what I want to hear—”

“I don’t,” Valtteri said. “Say things just because you might want to hear them, I mean,” he clarified.

“I know,” Lewis said softly. “It’s what I like about you. I always know you’re honest with me, even when—” he laughed a little, “even when it’s not what I want to hear.”

“You’ve had enough people try to manipulate you,” Valtteri said after a pause. “I never wanted you to be afraid of that with me.”

“I never was,” said Lewis, and it was true. “With you, I always knew… well, I always knew I could trust you, Valtteri. ‘Cause you’d never lie to me.”

Valtteri didn’t reply to that immediately. In the silence, Lewis became aware once more of their proximity, forced though it was — the way Valtteri’s body was pressed against his, the way he could feel Valtteri’s chest move with each breath he took. It was not the first time they’d shared space like this, but it felt different this time. Something about this entire situation felt charged somehow, and it was not just due to the tight space or the smell of rotten eggs.

“Is keeping a secret considered lying?” Valtteri asked in the end.

“You mean lying by omission?” Lewis considered it. “Why do you ask?” It felt strange to think that there was stuff Valtteri might not have told him. He had always been under the impression they knew each other through and through; that was just what happened when two people who were meant to find each other finally did.

Valtteri exhaled slowly. “You know how I said that sometimes it’s nice to say things you’re feeling, even if you don’t have to?”

“Yeah,” Lewis said.

“Well, I have been hiding something I’ve been wanting to say,” Valtteri said. “Though… maybe it’s not as much a secret as I thought.”

“What is it?”

In response, Valtteri simply reached out and intertwined his fingers with Lewis’s. He didn’t say anything — but then he didn’t need to. It clicked, and it was like Lewis had known it forever. Maybe he really had.

“What, that you like me?” he asked, looking at their joined hands resting on his knee.

“That — that I love you,” Valtteri corrected, haltingly. “I always thought… how could you not have known?”

“I do know,” Lewis said, and squeezed Valtteri’s hand. The revelation did not really feel like one. The only thing strange about it was hearing it out loud — or maybe the situation in which it was being said. In his head Lewis had always imagined it would be during a day out, or maybe a night in, something more pleasant… but then again, anything was more pleasant than a closet and dirty mops.

“You know?” Valtteri sounded surprised.

“Yeah,” Lewis said. “Like I said… you don’t always need to say things for me to understand. But,” he added, “it is nice to hear it.”

“And?” Valtteri asked after a moment.

“And I love you too,” Lewis said simply. “I thought you knew.”

There was another short silence, and then Valtteri said, sounding a little awed, “Yes, I suppose… I think I did.” Then, “Why didn’t you say it?”

“Oh.” Lewis thought about that for some time. “I don’t know, actually,” he said in the end. “If it was anyone else I would have been afraid, but… with you, I never was. So I don’t know, really. Maybe I was just waiting.”

“For?”

“For you to say it.”

“You wanted me to make the first move?”

Lewis shrugged. Their hands were still joined. “It felt important that you should. I don’t know why, Val.”

“You know that I want this,” Valtteri said quietly. “That I want you. That I have for a long time.”

“Yeah,” Lewis breathed out. “And you know that I’ve felt the same for just as long.”

“Then,” asked Valtteri, “what more are we waiting for?”

All Lewis had to do was turn his head towards Valtteri, and then Valtteri’s mouth was on his. He turned his body into Valtteri’s as much as he could, Valtteri mirroring his movement, both of them laughing into the kiss as he accidentally knocked into a bucket.

“Ow,” Valtteri said against Lewis’s mouth, his free hand sneaking under the hem of Lewis’s shirt.

Lewis giggled. “I could kiss it better?” he suggested, and pecked Valtteri’s lips without waiting for a reply.

“That does help,” whispered Valtteri, and Lewis laughed again.

Valtteri’s hand was warm on his skin, leaving goosebumps as it went higher. Lewis didn’t have much space to move, so he settled for trying to put his arms around Valtteri’s body, his weight settling against the locked closet door.

He could hear dim voices just outside, and was vaguely made aware of the fact that someone must have walked into the hallway their secluded little closet was in, but for the first time in a couple of hours he didn’t feel like doing anything about it. He couldn’t feel his legs, but he could sure as hell feel Valtteri’s hand on his chest, fingers ghosting over his nipple, and he could feel the tightness in his own pants, and Valtteri’s hard-on against his thigh—

“There’s people,” he managed to say in between kisses.

“Fuck people,” Valtteri retorted, somehow managing to pull Lewis closer.

Lewis laughed. “No, fuck me—” 

Of course, because this was just the kind of luck they had, that was when the door was pulled open forcibly. Lewis, who had no time to brace himself, and who’d had his weight supported by the door, spilled out on the floor, Valtteri on top of him. He only narrowly escaped hitting his head on the hard floor.

“Shit,” he gasped out, wincing as the feeling returned to his legs in a violent flood. His shirt was half rucked up, and Valtteri was red in the face. He was pretty sure it was obvious what they’d been doing.

“Is this a joke?” demanded someone above them, and Lewis groaned when he looked up and saw Fernando standing there, arms crossed. Lance was there too, looking stunned, but Lewis decided to focus on the bigger problem.

“Yes,” he snapped, glaring upside down at Fernando. “I love being locked in broom closets in my free time.”

Fernando looked unimpressed. “Well, I always knew about the closet,” he snapped.

“You’re not funny,” Lewis retorted.

Valtteri sighed, sitting up. He held out a hand to help Lewis sit up too, and then said, “Well, at least we’re no longer in there.”

“Congratulations,” said Fernando dryly. “Why are you here anyway?”

“I told you, it’s my new hobby,” Lewis told him as he got to his feet. “I do the best thinking of my life in small dark spaces, you should try it. It really gets you in the right headspace for driving.”

Fernando looked like he genuinely couldn’t tell if Lewis was joking or not. Valtteri stifled a laugh, and then said, “Well, I suppose we should be on our way then, Lewis?”

“Yeah, sure,” Lewis said, dusting his trousers off. He took an experimental sniff at his shirt, and breathed a sigh of relief when it didn’t smell like a dirty mop.

“Oh,” said Lance, appearing to come back to reality. “So this is what Mick said he needed my help for.”

“Of course he’s in on it too,” groaned Lewis.

“In on what?” Fernando asked suspiciously.

“Oh, the closet thing,” Lewis said. “He wanted to know how I prep for races.”

“I never saw you do this before,” Fernando said, narrowing his eyes.

“Like I said, it’s new,” Lewis said.

“Why a closet here? Why not one in your hospitality?”

“It has to be a really gross one,” Lewis explained. It was getting harder and harder to keep a straight face, especially because he could tell Fernando was listening carefully. “The smelliest one you can find. See, if you can ignore the smell, you can ignore any distraction. Helps with the driving, trust me.”

“I have tried it, it does work,” Valtteri added, and then reached out to take Lewis’s hand again.

Fernando either did not notice or did not care (Lance was back to texting on his phone, probably apprising Mick of the situation). “This closet thing,” he said, and then, “No… you are messing with me.”

“When have I ever done that?” Lewis asked solemnly, making a wounded face. “I’m telling you, it works. Just try it. In the meantime, Val and I have to go.”

“Bye,” Lance said without looking up.

“Bye,” Lewis said, and then thumped Fernando on the shoulder with his free hand. “Later, Fernando.”

“Do you think he bought it?” Valtteri asked the moment they were out of earshot.

Lewis laughed. “Oh, he definitely did. But never mind him,” he added. “I don’t know about race prep, but I can think of a few other things we can do in closets.”

“Must we?” asked Valtteri. “We’ve got two perfectly good hotel rooms, Lewis. I really do not want to be stuck again.”

“Fine,” said Lewis, grinning. “Hotel room it is, then.”

They were still holding hands as they emerged out into the paddock. Most people looked too busy to care, but the ones that did notice them didn’t look all too surprised. Lewis supposed he and Valtteri had never really been as subtle as they’d thought themselves.

“Is it okay to kiss you?” Valtteri asked.

“For you? Always,” Lewis said, and smiled against Valtteri’s lips when he kissed him.

#valewis #f1 rpf #my writing #remy.txt #niamh #i hope u like the nando cameo !!! also i tagged this fic with the right ship this time asdfgfds #n e way !!! i love you sm!!!