#need to hide that you're a redbull fan

[lewishamiltonstuff]

I’m not a redbull fan but aren’t you spreading misinformation?

What do you know to affirm the investigation wasn’t thorough. What kind of news have you been reading? There were third parties hired, they have to keep the information private by law, and there was an investigation.

I know we are all used to outrage rants, but how can you affirm such a thing?

Hmmm. Do you still have your doubts about the investigation not being "Thorough" after EVERYTHING that has just come to light???

[feuerspirit]

Brocedes + 47 (kisses out of spite)

Im so sorryyyyyyyyy. I hope you're still here, anon, and you'll see this answer, I know I've been writing it for too long, but I had a kinda creative block🙏🏼 beginning - translation of the poem "old friend"

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I dream of the old friend who has become the enemy, but I dream not of the enemy, - of the friend. I'm dreaming of the old friend, like the first love that is forever it is already irrevocable. We were taking a risk, We bet on the fight, and now we are enemies — two former brothers.

Nico was angry. He knew that he no longer had the right to claim Lewis, he had lost him somewhere on the way to victory, lost bit by bit, like sand through trembling fingers, every bit of tenderness between them. And Lewis didn't take any steps towards him.

He still remembered the whispers between the slowly cooling sheets, the promises to belong to each other forever, even if he himself had once escaped from what had become of their relationship.

Nico was young. Too hasty. Desperate enough.

And infinitely greedy for the sight of his own name, lined with gold.

Nico was young. But even then, he knew Lewis was no better.

They exchanged years side by side with each other, seemingly bound by fate itself even when one of them was so obviously trying to break this connection. Nico did not want to humiliate himself in front of him, did not want to seek meetings with him intentionally, and yet even after more than four years of silence, he could not contain his admiration for his former best friend now that envy and personal ambitions were no longer an obstacle for him.

He achieved his own dream. He could only hope that Lewis would make his own.

Nico didn't immediately notice that something had changed between them - he relaxed after the end of his career, and Lewis had learned so well how to hide himself in front of people. They talked for the first time in Barcelona, as if there was a chance for redemption for both of them, and then again and again, until Lewis suddenly finds himself on the podium, and Nico, with a wet palm tightly gripping the microphone, interviews him and cannot believe his trembling voice.

He reviewed the interview after that, maybe just because he was too weak to admit even to himself how much he lacked normal interaction with Lewis. Nico only saw because he knew where to look. Because he has already seen it hundreds of times, even if his skills have worn out over the years of oblivion. Nico saw his smile, as if intended for fans, but with those little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and wrinkles on his cheeks. Could hear the excitement in his voice. Saw the glow of his eyes when Nico first believed, catching his gaze: his best friend was still there. There was still hope for them.

And yet now Nico was angry. He left the paddock voluntarily, finished his career and hung up his gloves, but that didn't mean that he suddenly became blind. Nico saw the way Valtteri looked at Lewis, as if he had entrusted his own heart to him in a warm friendly embrace. He saw Max's gaze: angry and greedy at the same time, inflamed, heated, as if Lewis was the most coveted prey, a sworn enemy that he needed to defeat at all costs. He recognized this with enthusiastic adoration in the eyes of Pierre and Esteban – as people look when they first come into contact with the power of someone else's talent.

They all looked at Lewis as if they had a right to him, and Nico still remembered the days when he looked at him like that. He wasn't acting rationally, he knew that, but maybe it was that playful knowing look Lewis gave him as he passed by when he snorted too dismissively at Jensen's caustic joke.

Nico found him by accident, getting lost in randomly placed trailers and fences, between free practices, resting in the space between Mercedes and Redbull motorhomes, while Roscoe happily chewed his frisbee at his feet. Lewis raised an eyebrow defiantly when he saw how Nico froze, stopping in a narrow aisle, and barely smiled at the corners of his lips, as if asking what he was going to do now?

Nico crossed the small green clearing separating them in three steps.

He didn't act rationally.

He knew it.

And yet, this did not prevent him from bending down and quickly kissing him on his moist soft lips, without feeling an ounce of resistance in his body.

Nico appeared in the commentary position for the second practice with a satisfied grin. Considering that he had definitely seen the curly dark top of Daniel's head flashing between the trailers, clearly in a hurry to escape from the scene of the crime, he was sure that gossip would spread like wildfire around the paddock very soon.

Nico knew that he no longer had the right to claim Lewis. But he was determined to win it back.