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evanestraz · 17 days ago

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Part 2 under the cut

Hi, this is Mitch. André gave me your number. How are you?

While it might be the lamest line ever, Mitch hadn't really actually been trying to meet someone in ages, so he was a bit rusty. There's a difference between real and fake flirting after all, only that just he himself knows where he draws that line. Sometimes.

Oh hi Mitch! Norman told me you might text me. This is Sacha. I'm fine, what about you? Head still hurting?

Mitch almost drops his phone. Fenestraz? Isn't he like twenty five or something? That's definitely younger. Why on god's green earth would André set him up with Sacha? I mean he's a good kid, with a hell of a talent but still. He kinda is a kid.

Do I want to know how you know my head hurts?

He got three laughing emojis back.

Because there are videos on Norman's private account story.

Videos. Plural. Mitch is fucked, he will never live this down, fuck drinking with André Lotterer.

Right, I think I need to go murder a certain Frenchman. Talk to you later

Sacha just sends him back even more laughing emojis.

He smiles at his phone.

Yeah. That's not good.

He accepted that he and Alex are over the second the Brit stepped out of his flat in Monaco, when he told him he'd get married. Three months later, he still isn't over Alex completely, how can one be after ten years? But what still hurt him isn't that Alex left him per se. It is that he too chose an easier life, a better public image, over him.

That he didn't even want to fight for it.

And he is scared. Scared that this will be a pattern going through his entire life. Two is a coincidence, but three would be a pattern and he isn't sure if he could take that.

__________________

Three month more passed and Mitch is doing well. There is still that underlying dread, that it will happen again. That he'll be left after it was going well. But only when it's late at night and he's overthinking.

He's still talking to Sacha, trying to offer some support and comfort to the younger man, the sudden drop from Nissan less than ideal.

He does like him and maybe André wasn't too wrong to connect them. Sacha will come visit him in the next week, hasn't really been to Monaco away from race weekends, as he lives in Italy.

He's content enough with his life, slowly getting over the pain the end of the Formula E season once again had caused him. So when he goes to open his door, when the bell rings, he does it with a smile on his lip, expecting Norman, or Stoffel to stop by spontaneously.

Instead, it's Alex in front of his door. They spoke to eachother since the wedding, but not nearly as much as they used to. They haven't seen eachother since then.

"Hi. Can I come in?", Alex asks and Mitch recognises the look in his eyes, sees how he slightly sways to the side. Knows that he has been drinking.

"Alex", Mitch sighs, leaning against his door frame.

"Please?", Alex repeats.

Mitch finds that he doesn't want to give in, like he thought he would faced with Alex again. Faced with the possibility of getting him back. That's definitely a change.

"Alex you are married", Mitch warns him.

"It was a mistake. I know you know it was."

"Go home Alex", Mitch says, trying to close the door.

"But I want to talk to you, I need you to forgive me."

"Go home Alex. We can talk tomorrow. Call me yeah?"

"Okay", Alex's shoulders slump and as he turns away from his door.

Alex doesn't call the next day.

_________________

The next time, he sees Alex is on Antonio's wedding a few weeks later. He has told André about the visit, having to talk to someone about it. That's also why the German throws him a look, when he sees Alice hang from Alex's arm. Mitch just shakes his head, he expected nothing else.

They exchange pleasantries, promising to get in touch more again and as if that isn't enough on its own, Daniel is there too, joining their little conversation circle. He does see the comedic potential in this conversation, especially when he beckons Sacha to come over.

"Hi Sacha, nice to see you again", Daniel greets. He interviewed him for the German TV once or twice before. Sacha just gives a little wave, saying hi back.

"Alex, have you met Sacha before?", Mitch asks.

"I think I've seen you around when I visited Formula E again, but I didn't have the pleasure to meet him until now", Alex answers.

There it is again, Alex's charme. Sacha looped his arm around Mitch's waist, drawing him close to him. Cute, shoots through Mitch's head. Of course Sacha knew that he was in a relationship with both Daniel and Alex before and this is definitely a sign of possessiveness from Sacha.

He leans slightly against the Argentinian. "Well, glad that you could meet my boyfriend this time around."

While Daniel grins at him delighted, Alex looks like he's about to be sick. Mitch feels bad for him. He does. But at the same time, it's his own fault.

Luckily, André paid attention to them, being able to call Mitch and Sacha away at the perfect time.

"See you later guys", Mitch smiles and drags Sacha away with him.

He puts a kiss against Sacha's cheeck.

"Thank you for coming with me here."

Sacha isn't scared of being seen with him. It's refreshing and feels so right.

"Of course", he smiles back.

They reach André slowly after.

Sacha picks up a conversation with Norman, still holding Mitch's hand, fingers loosely intertwined.

Mitch leans over to André, whispering to him: "Thank you. For everything. For sitting me down half a year ago and for leaving Sacha's number."

"No problem", André smiles. He's happy too. They are both happy. What a stark change from the last wedding they've met at.

This time he doesn't drink to forget, this time, he wants to remember it all.

Good luck babe!

Pairings: Mitch Evans & André Lotterer, Past Mitch Evans/Alex Lynn, Past André Lotterer/Jean-Éric Vergne

Summary: Being the best man at Alex's wedding, was not the place Mitch thought he would take, having been together with him just three month ago. At least André is ther for him with a much needed bottle of Tequila.

You can read here on ao3, or under the cut, there is a part two, which I'll put in a reblog but this can be read as a stand alone.

By now, Mitch learned to expect the unexpected. Because most racing drivers were unpredictable at best, chaos agents at worst. That also goes for the time they spend together away from the track.

Like right now, when André Lotterer in all his glory sits down in front of him with a whole bottle of tequila, two shot glasses and a deep sigh, that indicates Mitch, that he won’t get away from whatever parenting technique André would be trying whatsoever.

He vaguely thinks about how alcohol usually should not be involved in parenting, but he does feel like getting drunk and the fact that André just produced lemons and salt out of his pockets tells him, that this is probably a long planned intervention, rather than just a spontaneous idea.

André pours them the first glass, still not telling him why exactly they are doing this right now at one of his best friends wedding, but honestly that is reason enough. Mitch doesn’t like being that honest to himself. He gets ahold of the salt shaker, licking over the back of his hand to make sure the salt will stick, before shaking some of it onto his skin.

He takes the lemon he’s offered with the same hand as the salt is on and the shot with the other.

"Ready?", he asks the man sitting opposite from him, the first words uttered between them. André just nods, shot in his hand himself.

"Go."

They simultaneously lick the salt of their hands, downing the shot and bite the lemon, before they look at eachother again, André already pouring the next one. Placing it right in front of Mitch again, together with another slice of lemon, offering the salt shaker too. They down the second one too and while André already pours the third round, Mitch finally speaks up.

"While I appreciate this, why exactly are you trying to get me drunk at Alex's wedding, I don’t think he will appreciate it too much, when his best man is hammered."

"I'm just returning the favour, don’t think I didn’t know you sent Stoffel my way at Jev's wedding."

"How did you-."

André waves him off. "Takes one to know one", he smiles weakly.

"Cheers to that."

And there went the third round.

"So how are you holding up?", Mitch tries to stir the conversation to André's dilemma, away from his own. Even though it was clear, that he won’t be able to avoid it forever. But André indulges him for the moment and spills his thoughts

"I'm doing fine mostly. Jev and I had been apart for quite some time when he asked me to be the best man on his wedding. We ended it off on good terms. I know there is no sense in telling you, that I wasn’t miserable inside. On one hand, I'm insanely happy for him, because he deserves someone who makes him truly happy. On the other hand, whenever I used to imagine standing at the alter with him, it was not as his best man."

He recognises the longing in André's eyes. He knows his eyes glint in the same way, whenever he looks to the dance floor, where Alex is still glued to his wife. Newlyweds or something. Mitch is so happy for his friend. So happy. But he’s two for two now. Two for two boyfriends that chose the easy life of marrying a woman. Instead of him that is. Two for two of asking him to be their best man. Mitch would laugh if that wasn’t his life they are talking about.

"Hey, you there?", André asks, nudging his hand with a new shot. Mitch takes and downs it without even waiting for the lemon and salt, pulling a face. It’s definitely a lot more grim like that.

The sympathy in André's eyes almost kills him.

"Yeah. More complicated for me mate", Mitch says, what is implied heavy in his tone. "Two for two." He formed a fist with his fingers, spreading the thumb and pinky away and shaking it. The same thing surfers did to show that everything’s great. Or some of their colleagues like to do after a win. Making fun of himself was the only way Mitch could remotely deal with it.

André just sighs again and pours another round, this time insisting Mitch takes the salt and lemon.

"Daniel was pretty shit, I won't lie, but at least he made it quick and a lot more painless, going back and marrying at the slightest inconvenience in our relationship, telling me that we are better off as friends after all. But Alex, it hurts like a bitch."

And there goes round six. Mitch knows he should pause now. Let his stomach get accustomed to it. Let his liver some room to breathe. He also should be the one at Alex side so what the hell was going on anyways. He's allowed to scrape this night from his memory.

"I still don't really understand you guys' time line if I'm honest", André confesses, urging Mitch to go on.

"He and I have been on/off for years, a decade give or take. Even before my relationship with Daniel. Hell we were on just three months ago. When he called and said he wanted to talk, I-", his voice breaks and the sobs that he is holding back so well so far, nearly break out of him. He takes a shaky breath in, trying to keep his voice from trembling. "I thought he called me to tell, that he was leaving Alice for good, but instead he told me, that he had proposed to her."

André reaches over to squeeze his hand, trying to offer support. It's about as bad as he expected. Maybe worse even.

"You are not the problem here", André says, voice soft.

"No, I know, but that makes it worse. Because that means it would have worked under different circumstances it could have worked", Mitch sniffles and André tuts.

"No crying Mitch, here, take another one of these instead."

Mitch laughs and downs the next shot with André.

"I don't know if that is of any soothing, but you can't know if it would have worked under different circumstances. We never will."

"But it's pretty damn obvious, when you've been on and off for ten years. Something was there."

André doesn't know how to answer, because it's not like Mitch is wrong. So he tries to make him laugh again.

"Maybe we are just meant for that bachelor life", he says, shooting finger guns at Mitch.

"Maybe we'll end up together", Mitch just muses back, making André laugh in turn.

"You're not really my type", André responds.

"Why? If I grow my hair a bit longer and work on that beard, I can pass as a Jev impersonator."

From all the answers André expects, this was none of them, he laughs out short and loud. "I'll pay you 500€ if you do that for this year's Halloween party."

"You might have yourself a deal there Lotterer", Mitch smirks, clinking their shot glasses together, as they take the seventh round of the evening.

"So what are your options then, what about Rossiter? You and him used to be close, isn't that an option?"

André shakes his head, fond smile on his lips. "While I did hook up with James a few times, I fear he's of f the market."

"No. You are kidding? How did I not get wind of that?", Mitch suddenly sits up straight again, he loves gossip almost as much as he loves to be the gossip.

"'Cause he's on the grid", André smirks.

"Who?", Mitch asks faking a gasp, vibrating with curiosity.

André chuckles, he knows neither Max nor James will mind him telling Mitch. They had thought about telling the grid anyways, is just easier for hang outs.

"Max."

"As in Max Günther?", a real gasp coming from Mitch.

"The one."

"James was his team principal", he gapes.

"Precisely", André answers.

"How long? I mean- what? That's. Oh I'm so happy for them!"

"Can't really give you details, you'll have to ask for yourself, but they are incredibly sweet together."

"Well to them then", Mitch decides to give a spontaneous toast. Round eight of the night running down the back of their throats.

Mitch can see André's eyes lock on a point behind him, he doesn't even need to look to know that it's Jev there, probably dancing with his wife.

"Hey eyes on me", he commands spontaneously, not really sure why he said that himself.

André looks at him, equally surprised.

"We were just getting somewhere that isn't sulking over our ex-boyfriends. Let's not loose that momentum."

André nods and pours them another shot.

"Oh my god, you are actually trying to get me drunk", Mitch laughs. "Like I said, you can get into my bed easier than that."

André shakes his head and just holds out the shot. Mitch still takes in and downs it, biting into the lemon afterwards.

"But we have to find you someone, we are too hot to be the hottest bachelors in town", Mitch pretends to fan wind into his face, as to cool himself down.

"I originally wasn't going to tell you, but I'm on a good way with someone right now."

"Ohhhh tell me!!", Mitch wants to know immediately.

"It's still too early. But I think it's going somewhere", André blushes, fully blushes and Mitch isn't sure if he ever saw the always so cool André Lotterer blush before. Well, apart from when he still was with Jev. Mitch deems that to be a good sign.

He coos at his friend. "Finding love on your old days."

"Shut up", André laughs, shoving him gently over the table.

"Still. It's not easy to see Jev with someone else", André tells truthfully. "I've just been with him for too long, for it not to sting."

"Yeah. I feel that. I'm over Daniel, one hundred percent, but when I see him in the paddock, my stomach still twists. And Alex is a different story entirely."

The following silence seals the tenth round of shots for them, the bottle almost half empty already.

"Oh we will regret this so much tomorrow morning", Mitch chuckles, getting a nod in response from André.

"Go dance to sweat a bit if it out?", the German asks, offering Mitch his hand. That did sound enticing.

"Sure."

_______________

Another ten shots later - they have successfully convinced themselves in the time that passed that they'd have a hangover either way - Mitch still clings to André.

"I want a boyfriend, a boyfriend, that doesn't just goes of and marries the next best girl. One that will stay", he says, speech slurred.

"Yeah, that's what you deserve", André muses, patting Mitch's head. He's drunk too, but not nearly as drunk as Mitch. German genes or something.

"I need a boyfriend, who doesn't even think about marrying at this point. I think James is doing it right, being with something younger that is."

André looks at suprised, not sure where that came from, just to see tears brimming in Mitch's eyes.

"Okay, it's okay. Let's get you to bed. You're tired, huh?", André soothes and steers him towards the exit. Just before they make it out though, Alex steps in their way. It is late by now, surely past one in the morning, but the air is still warm, so not even that is an excuse for André to just drag Mitch along.

"You're leaving Mitch?", Alex asks, looking disappointed. André is like 85% convinced that Mitch would just fall into Alex's arms if he wasn't holding him.

"Yeah, 'm tired. André's taking me to bed."

"I'm bringing him to his bed so he can sleep", André corrects softly but sternly.

Still, jealousy flashes over Alex's face. André sighs deeply. He feared this could happen. He steers Mitch, who had previously stood between them to the side and grabs Alex's arm with his free one.

"Mate. You just got married. This isn't a good look. I promise I'll get him to bed safely. But this is on you. He would've married you too."

"I know", Alex's conceives.

"She's looking here", André observes.

Alex tenses up and bids them goodbye tight-lipped.

______________

Mitch wakes up, already groaning, his head hurts like a bitch and he once again swears to himself, that he'll never drink Tequila again. At least with André Lotterer.

He vaguely patts around to find his bedside table, hoping, praying, that he'll find an aspirin and some water there. When he does actually find these things, he makes a new resolve, to only drink with André ever again.

He does remember stumbling into his room aided by André, but judging by the fact, that the older man is nowhere to be seen, that's probably all he did in his room. Tuck him in, tell him everything will be alright and listen to him cry over Alex a bit more.

Live isn't fair and Mitch knows that too well. No title, no husband, not even a boyfriend, no one to come home to.

He wants to spend the day in bed, not get up, just laze around. There is nothing to do for him anyways. Well, Alex and Alice organised a day-after brunch, but Mitch isn't sure, if he's ready to see Alex again. With his wife.

He doesn't even know why he agreed to be best man in the first place, probably because he didn't want to loose his best friend and boyfriend in one go.

It feels like he lost both anyways.

Only then, he sees the little piece of paper, that also was left on his bedside table. It's still too dark in the room, to actually read it and Mitch doesn't feel like enduring the headache that would come as soon as he opens the blinds just yet.

It'll have to wait until Mitch has slept at least three hours more and so he doesn't exactly that. The next time he wakes up, he only feels vaguely like shit, which is already progress.

He stumbles out of bed and opens the blinds, letting some light in, the sun already standing high. He has probably slept through at least half of the brunch by now anyway and basically everyone knows his situation with Alex anyways, they will understand, at least those that matter to him. He can afford that one of Alice cousins thinks he's a dick.

The piece of paper finds its way back into his field of vision. He picks it up, squinting a bit to read it properly.

You said you want to date someone younger. Text him.

And then there is a number written on the paper. A number he doesn't have in his phone. From the scribble, Mitch can clearly identify it as André's handwriting. 'Is he trying to set me up?', shoots through his head.

And knowing André, he probably is. He always wants to see his friends happy and if that means pushing them into a certain direction, he would.

What does he have to loose anyway? Mitch shrugs and retrieves his phone from where he had previously neglected it, to read the note again. It would be nice, to be with someone again. Like actually, without buts and maybes. Without fearing they'll propose to their ex-girlfriend. But even some no strings attached fun would help him right now. He hasn't been seeing anyone ever since Alex broke it off for good

So he types out a message.

#formula e rpf #mitch evans #sacha fenestraz #evanestraz #(yes that is my blog name and also what I made out to be their ship name deal with it)

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