Sergio remembers the first time he met Nico Hulkenberg. He doesn’t remember what kind of day it was, if it was warm or rainy, but he remembers Nico’s shoes of all things. Nico was wearing Converse trainers; a pair of tatty, mint green ones. They were sat on the driver’s bus, Sergio clad in the white and yellow of Sauber, Nico in the green and orange of Force India.
Nico had ended up sitting down next to Sergio with a heavy sigh. Sergio had ignored him the first two times and continued waving at the crowd. However, after the fourth time, Sergio can feel his frustration levels increasing.
“What is it?” He asks the exceptionally tall man.
Nico breaks into the biggest grin Sergio has ever seen – and are those, dimples? – and finally speaks.
“Aren’t you a little ball of sunshine?”
“I am not a little ball of anything.” Sergio replies tonelessly. He keeps an eye on some of the other drivers; the blonde one is flirting with the dark skinned one. They’ve all said hello to him but most have kept their distance, except one tall, blonde driver.
Nico smirks, it sits on the corner of his mouth. “You’re a grumpy ball of sunshine.”
“Do you do this to everyone you know?”
“Only the cute ones.” Nico replies, his pale blue eyes are glinting.
Sergio ignores the blonde and puts his headphones back in.
Nico stretches out next to him, placing his long legs out in front of him, his mint green Converses with the odd shoelaces scraping against the railings. His thighs barely brush against Sergio but he can feel the warmth.
It’s not until Sergio stands up to exit the bus and go back for a meeting that he realises how tall Nico Hulkenberg is. The blonde man stands up and stretches out his long, lithe frame. He towers over Sergio. His head comes up to Nico’s chest.
Nico looks down and fucking smirks at him – the dimple makes another appearance – and Sergio wonders how mad Force India would be if he punched their driver in the face.
He keeps his head down as he ducks off the bus. The warmth is still clinging to his thigh.
Sergio manages to avoid Nico until they arrive in Malaysia. It’s humid and he can feel the sweat clinging to the back of his neck, to his hair. He’s at the annual driver’s barbeque but he’s not eating anything. The greasy burgers and hot dogs look unappetising.
Sergio is sipping on a bottle of ice water and eating one of Nico’s bananas when a tall blonde sits down next to him.
“I don’t know why we have barbeques…” He says, almost to himself, but he’s looking at Sergio as he says it.
“What do you mean?” Sergio asks, half bored.
“Well, half of us can’t eat half of the stuff over there…unless we want to slow ourselves down at the race.” Nico points out.
“Then don’t eat.” Sergio replies. He stands up and walks over to the barbeque, he snatches up a hot dog.
It tastes like burning soggy meat on his tongue but he eats it nonetheless.
Nico’s dimple curves into his face. “And everybody said you were the nice guy.”
Sergio smirks. “Who said that?”
“Lewis.”
“Lewis is lying to you, Nico. I am not a nice guy at all.” Sergio says, shaking his head. He takes another bite of his hot dog, the ketchup ends up on the corner of his mouth.
Nico examines him carefully, his eyes linger on the corner of Sergio’s mouth.
Sergio finishes off the hot dog in three bites and moves to throw away the napkin. A warm hand wraps around his wrist before he can walk away.
“Wha-“ Sergio doesn’t even get to begin his sentence as Nico pulls himself to his full height, towering over Sergio – the dimple still dancing across his face – he smiles down at Sergio.
Sergio frowns, the napkin still held in his fingers. He can’t believe how tall the man is, Sergio comes up to his shoulder, if Nico pulled him into a hug, his face would sit in the crook of his collarbones.
Sergio shakes his head.
“You…” Nico pauses for a moment, grazing his finger across Sergio’s mouth, his fingers linger on Sergio’s lip, “have some ketchup right here.”
Nico’s eyes are crystal blue, Sergio finds that he can’t stop looking at them. He moves away, flinching away from the blonde German like his touch is fire.
“I need to go.” He says, his voice a touch quicker and higher than he anticipated. He steps away from Nico who watches him go with a measured blue gaze.
Sergio doesn’t see Nico again until they’re in Barcelona. They’re out in the paddock giving drivers interviews;
Sergio is stood next to Jenson answering a question about his DRS when he feels sudden warmth envelope his back. Jenson chuckles at the side of them, he glances down at the huge hand splayed over his overalls.
There’s a smudge of engine oil on one of the fingernails. He glances up, Nico’s smiling face is perched on his shoulder. His eyes look greener under the Spanish sun.
“Hey, honey.” Nico whispers, his breath is a mere ghost against Sergio’s ear.
Sergio blushes red.
“What are you doing?” He asks between gritted teeth, keeping the smile on his face. Nico cocks his head ever so slightly, his chin cuts into the flesh of Sergio’s shoulder. He’s so tall Sergio thinks for a moment, he knows Nico must have bent down to keep his chin on his shoulder.
“Nothing, you just looked comfortable and I was tired.” He grins, showing off his white teeth.
Sergio turns back to the commentator and continues talking. Nico’s hand remains where it is, dipping against Sergio’s chest. Sergio feels a twinge of something in his chest.
He can feel Nico’s smile against his chest.
It’s a beautiful day at Silverstone, Sergio ends up walking around the track on his own, feeling the sweat drip down his back. He glances over at the screaming crowds; Lewis is in the thick of it all, he’s been signing autographs for about twenty minutes. Sergio pushes his sunglasses up onto his nose and glances up at the sky.
A shadow falls over him. He sighs heavily, there’s only one person on the entire grid who manages to block out the grid. He looks down at the floor; Nico is wearing his mint green Converse.
“Hey, the best part of me is right up here.” Nico says.
Sergio glances up at the tall blonde.
His eyes are gleaming, there’s creases on either side of his eyes, it’s quite endearing. Sergio stops himself. The grin on Nico’s face seems to get bigger.
“Hey, I know I’m attractive but-“
“Can you give it a rest?” Sergio suddenly snaps. He’s had enough of the comments, he’s had enough of Nico’s smile, of the long blonde hair, of his stupid long legs.
There’s a touch of hurt in Nico’s expression but he hides it well. “Give what a rest?”
“This whole flirting with me thing…I don’t know who you have a bet with, but I don’t appreciate being a joke-“ Sergio says, he tries to ignore how tall the German is, he wants to make a joke about what the weather is like up there, he wants to hurt Nico.
Nausea curls in his belly. He walks away from Nico, ignoring the pull in his belly.
“It’s not a joke.” Nico says into the air, he hopes that Sergio hears the words. He sighs heavily, watching the Mexican stomp off to his garage.
Somebody leaves flowers in Sergio’s garage with a bright blue card propped up next to them. They’re tall sunflowers, they remind Sergio of a certain tall German with a sunny disposition. Sergio opens the card.
Sorry
The only word is written in block letters.
Sergio throws out the card but he keeps the sunflowers. He glances at them standing tall on the side of the dashboard when he’s been strapped into his car.
Sergio bumps into Nico at the end of the race, he slams into the hard chest of the German and blushes as he feels Nico’s nipple underneath his hand. Nico has reached out and caught Sergio by the wrist. Icy blue eyes meet warm brown.
“I-“ Sergio’s words die on his lips.
“I’m sorry, Sergio. I just-“ Nico begins.
Sergio doesn’t say anything. He just rips his hand from Nico’s, ignoring the tingle over his veins. Nico’s pale blue eyes scream hurt but Sergio walks away.
Nico doesn’t go near Sergio for the next two races. Sergio feels hollow inside. Pedro is wearing a pair of Converse. Sergio looks at them with pain in his chest. He glances at the Force India garage.
Nico is nowhere to be seen.
Sergio suddenly feels his hat pulled from his head. He turns to protest and comes face to face with a grinning Daniel Ricciardo.
The Australian is holding Sergio’s hat in his hands, his brown eyes shining.
“What are you-“
However, before Sergio can finish his sentence, Daniel tosses Sergio’s hat up on top of the chain link fence. The hat manages to catch on one of the posts and tips slightly. Sergio looks at Daniel, grin still painted across his face.
“Why on earth did you just do that?” Sergio says, trying to keep calm. He glances up at his hat dangling from one of the posts and worries his lip. He needs his hat back.
Daniel looks at his expensive watch and pretends to frown. “Oh, I guess I am needed back at my garage.” He disappears, half jogging away from the Mexican.
Sergio places a unsteady foot up to reach out and grasp hold of the chains of the fence. He leans his face against the chain link fence, feeling the cool metal against his forehead.
“Hey, are you okay?” A familiar accent speaks up from behind Sergio. The Mexican turns to see Nico standing in front of him, there’s a touch of concern on his brow, he’s wearing the same mint green Converse, his hands in the pockets of his baggy, faded jeans.
He looks reserved, his eyes drop to the floor.
“I’m okay.” Sergio finally bites out.
Nico glances up to meet his gaze, only for a second, he glances up at the fence, Sergio’s Sauber hat sitting proudly atop the chain link fence.
“Need a hand?” He asks, there’s a small smile curving on his lips. Sergio drops his hands and lowers his foot down to the floor.
Nico moves past Sergio, almost in a graceful motion, and scales the fence easily. He scoops up Sergio’s hat from the post and holds it triumphantly in one hand as he makes his way back down to the floor. Sergio watches him enviously; he makes it look easy.
Nico jumps back down next to Sergio and drops the hat back on Sergio’s head, grin stretched across his mouth.
“Here you go.”
“My hero.” Sergio says, a touch of sarcasm in his voice. Nico’s grin stays on his face.
“But seriously…thank you…I’ve been a bit of an arsehole to you in the last few weeks.” Sergio says, his voice barely audible over the din beginning in the garages. He readjusts his cap, fighting the blush away from his cheeks.
The smile on Nico’s face dulls. “I understand…and I accept your apology. I just wanted you to know that it was never a joke. I never made a bet with anyone.”
“What?” Sergio feels ice flood his bones.
“I never made a bet with anyone. I flirted with you because I wanted to.” Nico admits.
Sergio feels his mouth drop open.
“I’m sorry…I hurt your feelings. I won’t bother you again.” Nico drops his eyes to his shoes.
Sergio’s fingers grasp his wrist. Nico looks up into Sergio’s eyes.
“I want you to bother me.” Sergio whispers, his fingers curl around Nico’s wrist, dancing over his pulse. He stands on his tiptoes, his arms moving around Nico’s shoulders and presses a kiss to Nico’s lips.
Nico’s hands move to hold Sergio in place, his head slightly bowed to graze their lips together.
Nico is everything Sergio imagined; warm, soft and willing, his lips bite gently against Sergio’s lip. Sergio moans under the German’s touch.
Nico smirks into the kiss, one of his hands moving down to cup Sergio’s arse.
“Oh god,” Sergio moans against Nico’s lips.
“I know.” Nico smirks. He deepens the kiss, his hand on Sergio’s arse.
“Hey, thanks for doing that for me.” Nico says, winking at Daniel as he passes the Australian a hundred dollars in the driver’s interview paddock.
Daniel grins. “No problem. You can help me with my problem?” He glances towards a certain blonde German champion talking by the side of him.
Nico winks. “Of course, man, of course.”
It was easy to persuade Daniel to get involved. He still tastes Sergio on his tongue; it’s totally worth it.
