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Chapter Text

Gabriel hadn’t meant for this to happen. He really didn’t.

Maybe he thought it was a prank the first time he was offered a far-too-good-to-be-true contract from some big-name company that was doing research entirely incomprehensible to a human brain.

In Formula One, Gabi had learnt, time is everything. The sooner you start, the bigger the gap you have compared to everyone else. The more time you put into practice, the better you get.

So how could he possibly refuse an opportunity to get a 15-year head start?

It wasn’t time travel. They didn’t call it that, at least, instead using some complicated word with more letters than times it’ll ever be used.

He’ll go back. He won’t tell anyone. He’ll wait those 15 years to get back to 2025, report to the scientists that this kind of experience is possible, and take the extra knowledge he had gotten from his first year at Formula One to win a championship.

Sounded easy enough, right?

He thought so, at least, even through the torturous ride testing his body’s endurance to the limit, after using the instructions given and hundreds of hours spent learning how the old cars worked so he could be noticed by a team, and the test ride he was given in a Sauber to ensure he wasn’t bluffing.

It was painful, it was exhausting, and it was a risk that could end everything he’d worked so hard to beat.

But against all odds, he did it.

He tore through the track at unimaginable speeds, gave comprehensive feedback about the car that proved he was knowledgeable, and forged some very convenient documents of racing experience he had never done.

Sauber Ferrari had been struggling, barely keeping itself afloat, and they needed a miracle. Something to save them. A driver who could work their car like magic and stay loyal to the team.

Gabriel Bortoleto was the name of that miracle.

And it took him until this point, the start of the new season, waiting in the paddock for qualifying in Bahrain to start, before the weight of the pressure he was truly carrying hit him.

He could not mess this up.

The sound of a door opening brought him back to the present, turning around to see Peter Sauber, his team principal, walking inside.

Gabriel gave a small smile as the older man handed him a water bottle.

”Don’t let the pressure get to you,” He told him, “It’s your first race, and we’ll live with the result no matter what happens. Focus on doing your best.”

Gabi sipped the bottle as Peter spoke, waiting for him to finish before replying. “I know, you’ve told me. I drove the car before, I know how fast I can go in it.”

Of course, he knew that Peter was trying to prepare him for the worst. The team was in near failure, and he didn’t expect good results. He had gotten that same attitude from Stake; that reassuring smile that held nothing but sympathy behind it. ‘You have so much potential that you won’t fulfill with this car’.

But even if it stung a bit, he ignored it.

In this team’s eyes, he was just a rookie. A last-ditch attempt to find a breakthrough driver who could sustain them, along with an experienced teammate.

Peter didn’t say much else, giving Gabi a pat on the shoulder before walking out of the room.

He sighed, left at the mercy of his own thoughts as he slid on his new helmet.

He had to prove himself today. He’d done so much to get to this point; he can’t afford anything less than perfection.

The inside of the Sauber Ferrari car felt suffocating. It was thin and narrow, closing up against his sides and leaving little to no room for air.

He was starting to miss the Kick Sauber cars. As slow as they were, the designers clearly had the driver’s best interest in mind. With these, he wasn’t so sure.

But he had to adapt.

Adjusting himself to a proper position took just under a minute, hands wrapping around the steering wheel with force. Hands sweaty under heavy-duty gloves, feet lying restlessly against pedals.

The weight of the helmet covering his head left him breathing manually, constantly aware of every little thing.

For a few long moments, he could hear nothing but his own heartbeat, until a voice rang in his ears.

”Radio check, one, two, three. Bortoleto, can you hear me?”

Gabi cleared his throat. So this was his race engineer, then?

”Yes, yes, I can hear you fine,” He replied, voice just a little unsteady. The voice of his driving engineer was lightly accented but not enough to become confusing, tone encouraging. Gabi wasn’t sure whether that eased or added to his worries.

”Good, good,” The voice replied, “Lights out in half a minute. Prepare.”

Gabi took a deep breath, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel, eyes focusing on the blank lights up above.

This was it. Now was his moment.

The moment the lights went out, his foot pressed down on the gas pedal, engine revving into life as his car started moving. Immediately, he swooped past two cars next to him, already getting a good start. The car wasn’t fast, not compared to the Ferraris and Mercedes that flew past the rest of the grid like cheetahs in a zoo, but it was drivable.

And the bare minimum was all Gabi needed to make the most of it.

He rushed through the straight line as fast as he could, overtaking a slow Lotus with ease. As he neared the corner, a voice spoke in his headphones again.

”We’re gonna move on the inside on turn one, try to keep steady.”

Gabi did his best to follow the orders, keeping his car grounded through the corners before the next straight. He stuck to the inside, overtaking another car in a following corner, closing in on the gap between him and the next car by the time a full lap was completed.

He spoke into the radio, “Attempting overtake.”

The response was immediate.

”Not yet. Gap the car behind, take your time."

Gabriel frowned but listened. There was no point in arguing; he needed the team on his side, even if he thought waiting longer would be a risk.

But when he reached the designated zone, the overtake went smoothly, getting him past the car and more space to gather up speed.

His engineer cheered through the radio, making him proud.

By the time the 18 minutes were over, along with the few laps he got in, he had scored a fastest lap that secured him for Q2.

They had an eight-minute break between Q3 and Q2, getting out of the car to refresh themselves and see the results, in which Peter praised him.

”Keep this up, and we’ll be a point-scoring team,” He told him, but it sounded more like a joke than a compliment.

He’d take it either way, as long as the jab wasn’t directed at him.

His new teammate, Pedro de la Rosa, was with them, too.

He’d hardly gotten a chance to talk to him before, but he seemed friendly enough around the cameras. He didn’t quite smile at him, but he wanted to make a good impression. Maybe they could even be grid friends, even if Pedro was much older than him.

It didn’t stop how well he got along with Nico, after all.

He turned to Pedro, still standing in the office, offering his friendliest demeanor as he tried to make small talk.

”How’d you do in quali?”

Pedro stared at him for a moment, trying to understand what he meant by the shortened word. “Disappointing, actually.” He explained shortly, tone neutral. “P20, but you take what you can get.”

Right.

”Oh. I hope you’ll do better on race day, then.”

Gabi couldn’t quite name the feeling going through his head when Pedro stared at him with that polite smile, unable to gauge if it was genuine or shielding annoyance. He didn’t respond, simply nodding before returning to Peter.

He already didn’t like this guy. He’d heard good things, and he’s sure they were true, but Gabi didn’t know how to act around people who were so… monotone.

With Nico, every chat was filled with entertainment and laughter. Whether that was something as important as race strategy or as small as Gabi explaining for the hundredth time how reels on Instagram worked.

From the first day they met, they immediately bonded, and even Fernando seemed to approve of their friendship. Even if he got concerned a couple times too many over Nico’s touchiness.

He had to admit, he sort of expected his new teammate to be just like that. To immediately click, have the same friendship that he and Nico developed so easily.

But maybe he just needed to work harder here.

He’ll get there eventually, he was sure. Even if there was a tinge of disappointment in him that he wouldn’t be getting back that relationship with Nico.

Q2 didn’t go as well as before; he still managed to finish, but the cars in front of him seemed a lot more adamant to stay in front, and he had to struggle to make a fast lap.

P17 wasn’t bad, at least that’s what his engineer said, but Gabriel had thought he could do better.

”Qualifying has a lot more to do with the car,” His engineer explained after the driving ended and they watched the cars left in Q1 battle it out, “And with 24 on the grid, there’s a lot that are good and even more that aren’t.”

”If that was the case, Pedro and I would both be in last place,” Gabi retorted.

”I said it has a lot more to do with the car, not everything,” His race engineer, who he later learned was named Amir, told him. “And it’s only your first season, you don’t know which cars are that bad yet.”

”Second,” Gabi corrected, before catching himself.

A wave of panic shot through his body, quickly fixing his mistake before he spilled everything and blew this poor engineer’s mind.

“I mean, second with this kind of car. I got to drive some in other motorsport... things.”

Amir shrugged, dismissing the comment as a slip of his tongue, making Gabi thank god that he wasn't paired with someone who could read through his quite pathetic lies.

”Still a rookie though. It’s only a matter of time until you get the car figured out, but don’t beat yourself up until then.”

Gabriel hadn’t expected just how differently the car would perform compared to the Stake Sauber, and he had to admit, it was disappointing.

Of course, he didn’t want to beat himself up over it, but it was very hard not to after being completely ordinary at qualifying.

He had to admit, a part of him liked to feel special. To think that this opportunity was given to him, only him, because they saw something special about him. Something that needed a different setting to truly shine, something that came too late but would have thrived in the past.

Something that would shine brighter than any driver before.

Something in Gabriel Bortoleto, winner of both Formula Three and Formula Two, both in his debut year, point scorer in Formula One with the slowest car on the grid, a man able to push even the worst situations to their best.

A driver who turned heads everywhere with sheer speed and willpower.

And now, apparently, someone who took his first chance to get ahead of everyone else and bottled it.

The worst thing was that he didn’t even have anyone to talk about it with.

Family? They were back in 2025, moving on with their lives without him. Friends? He had none here. Didn’t even get to speak with the other drivers; everyone rushing off to their paddock after qualifying, talking with their teams or each other.

And now here he was, sitting at a team-issued hotel, eating takeout ramen like a broke college student trying to survive.

Replaying every moment on the track in his head, doing the job of an entire strategy team all by himself.

Gabi was so transfixed on the moment that he almost missed the notification that popped up on his phone.

Glancing down at the lit-up screen, it read, ‘WhatsApp - New group chat added: 2010 Rookies’

Intrigued, he clicked it open, huffing at the lack of face recognition on his old phone as he typed in the password, before checking the group.

[ ~ Vitaly Petrov ]

Made a group chat for us to talk without the other drivers

Good qualifying today

Especially Nico on P14

[ ~ Karun Chandhok ]

Yeah, good on him for finishing the race

Unlike some of us :)

[ ~ Vitaly Petrov ]

You DNFd too

[ ~ Karun Chandhok ]

It’s the first race of the season

Cut me some slack

Gabi couldn’t help but smile faintly. He remembered the 2025 rookie group chat, filled with chaos and surprisingly accurate memes about their cars and teams.

He didn’t get along with all of them, at least not more than polite handshakes or small talk, but he liked knowing he wasn’t the only one struggling through this, and that he had competition to beat, of course.

He hopes they’re doing well without him.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Congratulations to Nico.

He closed his phone shut, finishing the last bowl of ramen before getting up.

Better get a good night’s rest, he had a long day tomorrow to do his best.

Well, Gabriel hadn’t expected his best to be P16, barely any improvement from qualifying.

It wasn’t his fault, either. The STR was easy enough to overtake, but the Lotus ahead of him sped hard and defended harder. He overtook at one corner before being almost driven off the track, having to return to P16 to avoid a possible penalty.

”We’ll get him at the next corner,” Amir told him over the radio, “Stay close behind.”

And Gabi tried, he really did, but the next corner came and went, and so did the one after it. And after a few more laps of back and forth defending, the gap between them barely above a millisecond, the race was over, and his position was set.

Not nearly the point-scoring he was aiming for, but he put up a good fight and knew to attack sharper next time.

The post-race interviews weren’t something he was looking forward to; he doubted anyone did, but they were nearly mandatory, especially for the rookies and podium sitters. None of which overlapped yet, expectedly.

Despite knowing he was heading towards the media, exiting the car was like a breath of fresh air, as well as finally seeing the other drivers.

It was so strange getting to see them in person.

Faces he recognized only through pictures, familiar voices that sounded much younger, and hopeful futures he already knew the doomed destiny of.

And, up at the podium, stood Fernando Alonso in all his might, spraying champagne after a well-deserved win.

Gabi almost smiled seeing him like this. Young. Thriving. Awaiting another championship that was going to another man.

Around him gathered the other drivers, space between them except for the ones sharing comments or small talk with each other. Which was surprisingly a lot of them, making him feel a little left out.

It didn’t help that he hardly knew the names of everyone who hadn’t gone on to succeed in the future, something he shouldn’t even be aware of.

Looking at these people around him, the only thing he could associate with them was a few Google searches and either envy or sympathy.

There was one face, however, that immediately made him smile.

Before he could stop himself, his legs started moving, determined. A younger self, but still the same person who could make Gabi’s day just by looking his way.

He stopped right before him, extending one of his hands to pat the other’s back. It was a little uncanny how they were almost the same height. He wrapped up the gesture with a friendly, “Hey, Nico!”

His warmth was met with a neutral face and an abrupt movement, Nico stepping out of his way, hand just barely grazing his racing suit.

Nico put a step of space between them, tone confused yet disinterested.

”Can I help you?”

Gabi stared at him, the lack of emotion in his voice feeling almost like a punch to the gut. The Nico he knew would have hugged him on the spot, cheered him on, and maybe even praised him on the improvement after qualifying.

He was really hoping for that hug, he had to admit.

And instead… this. An almost suspecting gaze, distance put between them, a tone fit for a stranger overstepping boundaries.

Which, in a way, he was. Nico didn’t know him. Nico didn’t know Gabi the way Gabi knew him.

That’s all they were. Strangers. Rivals. A year of friendship and connection dissolved like it was nothing, a future that they hadn’t reached yet.

And here he was. Staring at him like a fool.

”Oh, no, I…” Gabi started, words catching in his throat as he tried to explain. But he had nothing to explain.

He just went up to a stranger and expected an open-armed welcome. The only fool here was him.

“Sorry. I suppose, uh,” His voice went quiet, “I thought you were someone else.” 

“If you’re looking for Rosberg, he’s over there,” Nico gestured vaguely behind him at a man in a Mercedes suit talking to one of the engineers.

He gulped down the lump in his throat and walked absently in the direction Nico pointed.

No ‘thank you’, no ‘good race’, no ‘see you later’. Just that; an interaction between two strangers exchanging directions.

That’s all they were and will ever be.

Oddly enough, the media stayed away from the rookies after the race, giving Gabriel time to think.

He’d gone back to the paddock and exchanged a few words with Pedro, who crashed during the race, over getting a proper grip on the car to overtake. The steering wheel had something off about it, even if neither of them could quite name it. The wheels reacted a little too boldly to the movements and, while it allowed for intense overtakes, it also made it easy to stray off track.

He’d have to talk about it with Peter later, maybe even consult an engineer.

But for now, his first-race duties were over, and he was free to return to the hotel to get the proper rest he’d been dying for.

However, there was one more surprise waiting for him.

His course to the hotel took him through a parking lot where a few of the other drivers’ cars were settled, and he took a moment to look over them.

One in particular caught his eye. A beautiful Ferrari Enzo, a red coating shining with expense over the perfectly symmetrical sides of the car.

It felt awfully familiar, and it took him a good long moment before he realized why.

That moment, being, the owner of it walking up to him after a very successful race.

”Good eye for cars?” Fernando questioned, watching the Brazilian immediately turn to him, like he recognized his voice.

Gabi looked at that face, proud and curious, like the day he’d first met the Spandiard who made his dream to even get into a Formula car a reality. The man who promised him with a full heart that, if he were to take the offer and go back to 2010, he’d support him through anything.

Fernando Alonso, who was the father his real one refused to be.

With the instincts of a Formula One driver, he lunged at the still-older man, arms wrapping around his torso like a vine latching onto a steady rock in an embrace.

He could hear the air get knocked out of Fernando’s lungs, soon accompanied by a hand gently patting his back. Voice humouring.

”I’ll take that as a yes about the cars.”

Gabriel breathed, still not letting go. He needed this moment, something to ground him, to remind him that he was still there. “No, it’s just… been very long since I’ve seen you win.”

“Was 2009 that bad?”

Gabi cracked a smile, finally moving away from Fernando. Remaining close by but giving the other man his space/

“A little. Not a great day for fans of El Padre.”

”Cheeky.” Fernando crossed his arms over his chest, tone full of fondness. “I like you.”

Gabi couldn’t even start to put into words how much that meant to him. Even if it was a little worrying how quickly Fernando accepted it.

”I would hope so.”

Fernando turned back to his car, still speaking as he opened the door of his Ferrari. “Would you like a ride to your hotel?”

Gabriel blinked, not having expected that. Perhaps younger Fernando was a lot more gentle on him than the one he was used to, telling him to toughen up or do things himself. He weighed his options before shaking his head no.

”Thank you, but I will be fine. Have to stay in shape.”

Fernando smiled at him, making another comment of approval before getting in his car and roaring the engine like he was trying to impress before speeding off.

Gabi couldn’t shake his smile off as he made his way back to the hotel.

The following week after the race was quiet, a bit too quiet. There were some texts in the rookies’ group chat, a few online posts from the teams, and one long strategy meeting he barely managed to stay awake in.

In Stake Sauber, the team loved the drivers overall, especially Nico. They’d make the conversation interesting and ask for driver feedback before making any big decisions.

Sauber Ferrari seemed to focus more on adapting the drivers to the cars rather than the cars to the drivers.

But he could handle it. He will handle it.

After the meeting, he had to catch a flight to the next Grand Prix in Australia, which thankfully meant that the team was paying for it. Of course, he had gotten money after signing with them, millions of dollars actually, but Gabi was far from frugal, and he liked to spend his money on himself.

And, well, Nico too, but that wasn’t very possible right now.

The wait at the airport was long, causing him to download some old games on his phone to entertain himself, when a notification popped up.

[ ~ Karun Chandhok ]

Am I the only one who got an email about some rookies-only interview?

Curious, Gabi checked his inbox, and sure enough, the FIA had sent him a mandatory invite to some talk show they had for entertainment.

2025 had many more of those, even making series like lie-detectors or meme reactions. He always found those very fun, even if unnecessary at times. Sure, it was supposed to make the drivers more relatable, but they could at least offer free food or use proper air conditioning.

Perhaps it used to be better in the past, though.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

I got one, too

Might call in sick, looks like torture

His text got a few laughing emojis, cheering him up a bit. Maybe the current grid wouldn’t be as bad as he thought.

The room was stiff and uncomfortable when Gabriel first entered, the air thick with expectation and disappointment as the rookies rolled in.

They sat around a round table, an interviewer sitting among them, a practiced posture and perfect makeup shielding her expression as she instructed them on how to talk and answer every question.

The lights were blurry and felt like a crime investigation, only helping the uneasy atmosphere.

But Gabi found himself relaxing a bit before the filming started as jokes and comments were shared at the table.

When the filming actually started, he still had a smile on his face, muttering about how this was probably the end of their careers, which earned a snort from Vitaly.

”Hello everyone! Thank you for tuning in with us. My name is Lauren, and this is the Rookie Roundtable, a show where we get a series of questions for the fans to get to know the new 2010 Formula One rookies!”

Her voice was positive, perfectly chipper, like a practiced game show host. She then addressed the drivers.

”Can I have you each introduce yourself to the screen?”

A few looks were exchanged among the seven men around the table before one spoke up.

“My name is Karun Chandhok, I drive for HRT Formula One team.”

Another joined, then, “Nico Hulkenberg, driver for Williams Cosworth.”

A few more names went around the table, earning a few reactions from Lauren and the others around the table, before his turn came up.

”Gabriel Bortoleto, Sauber Ferrari driver.”

The team still felt odd on his tongue, but it flowed well enough for the interviewer to shuffle her papers and move along.

”Wonderful to meet you all, then. To start our questions, could we have each of you tell us your first impressions of the other rookies?”

”Haven’t we already started the questions?”

The muttered comment, just barely loud enough to be heard, came all the way across the table from Nico. Making the two drivers next to him snicker.

Lauren, however, did not look impressed. “Alright, then, Nico, how about you start?”

Gabi couldn’t help but smile as panic hit Nico’s eyes, widening as he fixed his posture. He looked like he was hoping to bear through this interview without a single word, and that plan had just been thrown out the window.

He moved the microphone closer to his mouth.

”Well, I had the GP2 championship fight with Petrov last year, very close fight. Di Grassi, too. Good to move into Formula One with big names, knowing the competition is half the fight.”

As his sentence finished, Nico’s gaze flickered to Gabi’s face for a moment; no more than a fleeting glance, but just enough to acknowledge something. He cleared his throat, adding, “As for the new faces, I suppose we have to wait and see.”

Gabi hoped that wasn’t targeted at him, even if a part of him knew it absolutely was.

The rest of the interview, at least, wasn’t nearly as brutal; a few tough questions, some unfunny jokes at the rookie’s expense, diving into parts of their personal lives none of them seemed eager to share. But that was a part of racing, having to deal with the media afterwards.

And, unfortunately, said media always seems to find a way of knowing things they shouldn’t.

”Another question for you, Gabriel,” Lauren called, snapping the Brazilian back to the moment as he adjusted his microphone.

”Yes?”

She didn’t respond immediately; instead, she shuffled her papers and pulled out a printed photo. She placed it down in front of him, a PR smile on her face.

”Fans say after Fernando Alonso’s win at the last race, you were spotted hugging him. What prompted you to do something like that?”

The photo, of course, didn’t show the actual act, but what happened afterwards, he and Fernando bantering like old friends.

He couldn’t help but smile faintly. “I was proud of him for winning,” he answered simply.

A little too simply. The words of someone who’d known this man for years, who loved him wholeheartedly. The interviewer’s gaze softened, just for a moment, before moving on to a question for the next driver.

He couldn’t feel a gaze on him throughout the rest of the interview, but didn’t pay it any attention.

If someone dislikes his ways of expressing emotions, they will have to deal with it.

Qualifying in Australia started out well, getting a good few laps in, but on his attempt for a faster pace, the engine started sounding off. They ended up retiring the car before the session ended, getting him stuck all the way at the back of the grid at P24.

It didn’t help that his teammate somehow managed a P12 start, meaning if he had the opposite car, he could’ve done much better.

Of course they favoured Pedro. He was trustworthy, experienced, and knew how to handle a car.

Of course they’d rather have someone who could score points and finish races rather than him.

But it still stung to know he was held back not by the car, but by the team that gave it to him.

When he exited his car, he almost threw his helmet on the floor, frustration in his steps as he searched across the paddock for Peter.

He’d show him a piece of his mind, tell him exactly how unfair this car is. How he’s wasting the team’s potential, wasting Gabi’s potential.

But instead of finding Peter when he went into the lounge room, he found Amir there, sitting in a corner made for lunch breaks with a pen in his hand and scribbling on paper.

His anger died down as he approached him, forcing himself to sit down.

”Hey,” He greeted, not making eye contact. “Sorry about the bad race. Trying to fix up the engine, gonna cost a lot but we’ll get you a new one.”

Gabi nodded slowly, unsure how to respond. He was still frustrated, still needed to blow off steam, but he had nothing to complain about.

He was getting what he wanted; someone to take accountability and fix the mistake.

But it still didn’t feel quite right. What he was looking for wasn’t a solution; it was to let out his disapproval. But he couldn’t even do that. “Good,” he eventually settled on.

A moment of silence passed before Amir turned to look at him.

”Is something wrong?”

”No. I don’t think so, no, just…” Gabi drawled, unsure how to phrase it. “Very disappointed in the car. Could have done a lot better, and now I’ll be starting from the back of the grid because of this. It’s not your fault, but still… disappointing.”

To his surprise, Amir didn’t look hurt or annoyed at him like he expected. Instead, he gazed at him patiently.

”It’s okay to feel like that. I’m not very happy about the results either.”

”I don’t think anyone here is, maybe except for Pedro.”

“He’s probably out celebrating like there isn’t a race to do tomorrow.”

And, finally, Gabi cracked a smile.

It wasn’t professional, it wasn’t modest, but he found himself telling his engineer his thoughts. About the race, about the drivers, and about wasted potential. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt a lot more comfortable than in the first week he’s been here.

Maybe he was finally letting down his guard, or maybe he just found someone he could trust with it.

And Amir listened, patient, but voiced his opinion. Just like his old teammate used to.

It was nice, chatting with someone like that again.

And he even added his own comments, too, after Gabi talked for what was probably thrice as long as Amir did.

”Well, at least when you start last, there’s nowhere to drop down to, right?” He joked. “And I’m sure you’d get along great with the other drivers. You’ll catch up next weekend, maybe then they’ll see you shine a bit.”

And Gabi actually believed it.

”Let’s hope the engine will agree with you.”

”Hey, you should be grateful. Only teams other than us that took rookies in this year have lawnmowers for their cars.” Amir laughed, leaning back in his seat like he was talking to an old friend. “Except for Williams, I suppose. Bold move to take in a rookie for that car, but Hulkenberg seems to be doing well.”

Gabi couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Maybe he’ll get a podium this year.”

The conversation went on, the hint of irony in his voice a joke that only he will ever understand. Surrounded by the warmth of someone he was close to calling a friend while being completely isolated from reality by too much knowledge.

Maybe if he tried hard enough, he’d forget him eventually. Or replace him if his race engineer stuck around for long.

He missed him.

Gabriel took a deep breath, steadying himself inside the car as he prepared to go all out.

They had an emergency strategy meeting the day before, having great hope for Pedro and apparently none left for him during the race. A plan was set after a brief debate, something that should ‘satisfy both ends’.

Pedro will give it his all to get within the points, and with a few timed pit stops, they can use Gabi to delay the cars behind Pedro and give him a gap.

It was a cheap tactic that relied on Gabi being lapped by the other cars, but there wasn’t much else you could do at dead last.

And, even if he initially agreed, he wasn’t going to back down so easily.

He’ll give them a reason to call him Gabriel Bortoleto.

”Remember what to do, yeah?” Amir spoke through the radio, “You’re gonna do your best, one way or the other.”

”Copy that.”

The moment the lights were off, Gabi’s foot pressed on the gas with more strength than he thought his leg would ever be able to use all at once.

The first two corners allowed for a curve where he managed to overtake two cars, and by the next few laps, he had gotten three more.

His improvement was fast, unexpected, yet steady.

He was called into the pit stop around lap 20, having managed to build a sizable gap between him and the other car, making sure he had the time to execute an assist for his teammate.

”Good, let’s go back out there now,” His engineer instructed him, “Try to get as close to Pedro as you can. Give the fans those overtakes they want to see.”

And give the fans what they wanted he did, alright.

By the second pit stop, he’d gotten P14, and managed to overtake another car before the checkered flag announced the finish.

Sauber Ferrari, P13 and P11.

Needless to say, he was more than happy watching the podium ceremony, knowing how much of an improvement he had made. Body a bit unsteady from the adrenaline rush earlier, feeling almost drunk off of speed.

Jenson Button may have stood on that podium with his anthem playing, but Gabi felt like the one who had won that day.

And that only became more true when, standing with the other drivers to watch the ceremony, when from the corner of his eye, he spotted a certain blue outfit that would make any aspiring racer smile with envy.

Sebastian Vettel, in all his glory, whispering with his teammate like teenage girls fighting over who wore the prettier dress.

Maybe because he stared a few moments too long, or maybe due to how obviously he was doing it, but it only took about ten seconds before Sebastian returned his gaze.

”You want an autograph or something?”

His tone wasn’t mocking, almost playful even, but it embarrassed Gabriel all the same. He quickly shook his head.

”Ah, no, no, sorry. It’s just… it feels surprising to actually race alongside you.”

He immediately regretted the words after they left his mouth. He sounded like an awe-struck rookie meeting his idol, even if that kind of was the reality. But Sebastian huffed a little laugh, entertained.

”I hope to see you actually race alongside me, then. Push the car to score points and then we’ll talk.”

He almost responded when Mark Webber, standing next to Sebastian, muttered “You’re asking the kid to do that with a Sauber.”

”If he can win a championship in a Red Bull, I could score points with a Sauber,” Gabi retorted.

A beat of silence passed, making Gabi realize what he said.

Instead of questioning it, Sebastian chuckled. “Can and will, alright.”

Mark sent another comment Seb’s way, probably something about arrogance, but Gabi had already walked away in embarrassment. He made a slip-up that could have cost him everything; he had to be more careful with these things.

He knew it was only a matter of time before something happened. They’ll eventually meet his future self in this timeline, too, after all.

But he wanted to postpone that for as long as possible.

For now, he just wanted to focus on enjoying the celebration.

The day following the race, Gabriel slept for almost 12 hours straight, absolutely exhausted but satisfied.

After his nap, lying in his dimly lit hotel room, he instinctively reached for his phone to see what he could order for dinner.

There were a few text messages waiting for him.

He checked the rookie group chat first.

[ ~ Karun Chandhok ]

Good job on Bortoleto today

It’s all the reporters are talking about

Gabi couldn’t help smiling faintly. He hadn’t even checked the media or stayed for the post-race interviews, having gone back to explain to a few of the engineers what went wrong in hopes they’d fix it. Surprisingly, they actually listened.

Before committing to this experiment, he made sure to learn about how the cars functioned, as Max Verstappen told him he would find it useful.

If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought Max had as much of a head start as he did.

[ ~ Vitaly Petrov ]

Way to avenge your qualifying

[ ~ Bruno Senna ]

I have to agree.

Those were some incredible plays.

The messages kept going, and Gabi was more than happy to read every word of praise, but then he saw the next one.

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

Congratulations on almost making it to the points.

He stared at his screen for a tad too long, unsure what he could make of it.

Texts were difficult to decipher, especially when you can’t tell something like the tone of voice or emotion behind them. It was just that, a text, a string of words that were said at face value, but always had more underneath.

And he couldn’t tell if the undertone to this one was pride or condescension.

He moved on to the next messages to get his mind off of it.

[ ~ Fernando Alonso ]

Hello Gabileto

Very good race today

Grabbed your phone number from Pedro. I hope that is ok with you

Fancy lunch with me and Massa?

He could hardly believe how casually Fernando was offering him this, like eating lunch with a Brazilian icon like Felipe Massa was something so casual he could offer it as a text.

The message was sent a few hours ago, when he was still asleep, so he typed in a reply as quickly as he could before getting up to get something proper on.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Yes of course

Sorry for the late reply, I was asleep

Where are we meeting?

[ ~ Fernando Alonso ]

Sleep is to do at night, Bortoleto

I will send you the address

Should be close enough to walk

Gabriel was on edge the whole way there.

He couldn’t help it; he’d known Fernando his whole life, even if Fernando only knew him for a few weeks, but Felipe was new. Different. Exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time.

What would he say about his driving? Gabi hoped he could impress him. That the incredible leap of over ten positions would earn him at least the tiniest sliver of respect from the older man.

He found himself fidgeting with his sleeve as he sat down in front of the two men, unsure what to say.

He felt both intimidated and in awe, getting to be in such a normal situation with someone like Felipe.

To Fernando, it must have been the most obvious step. A rookie has taken a liking to him, so he’ll let his teammate gauge him. Of course. It wasn’t a friendly or casual meeting. This was a trail.

And Gabi was going to win it.

“Bortoleto, correct?” Felipe spoke, voice calm but intrigued. “Impressive performance at the last race. How did you manage that?”

As Gabi spoke, words painting vivid images of the scene as he remembered it, fueled with nothing but determination and the need to prove himself, he found himself feeling more at ease and enjoying the conversation as it went on.

Felipe smiled at him, making the occasional small notes or comments, while Fernando shared some of his own experiences and praise.

”I’m surprised the media let you off the hook,” Felipe added after the topic shifted, “I can imagine the reporters being more than eager to interview a new promising rookie.”

Gabi felt confidence rise in his chest as he formed his replies. “I did get a summon for an interview, but it should happen at the next Grand Prix. A few of them, actually.”

“You’re finally being noticed, then,” Fernando concluded, sounding awfully pleased.

“I don’t plan to stop.”

Felipe leaned forward, getting Gabi’s attention as his voice took a more serious tone. “Standing out is good, but don’t let it get to your head. As much improvement as you make, this is still your first year. And you have a much more experienced teammate, too. You should learn from him.”

“I’m not sure if I can,” Gabi answered, attempting to joke over his honesty. “Pedro is, uh, he’s a little…” He motioned with his hand, unsure what to say.

“Intimidating?” Fernando offered.

Gabi shrugged. “Unfriendly.”

“Well, he is still your teammate; you will eventually find a way to get along with him.” Felipe glanced briefly at Fernando as he added, “Believe me when I say I have had my fair share of disagreements with teammates.”

Fernando rolled his eyes, even if the gesture looked more fond than annoyed. “It’s not easy being better than your teammate.”

Gabi chose to laugh and keep his mouth shut about Felipe kicking his teammate’s leg under the table.

The rest of the week, Gabriel thought, was a great opportunity to go over strategy and progress with his team, but all he really did was rest and play around with the Formula simulator.

Being used to a much better quality one in 2025, it was difficult to adjust to the old one, but he forced himself to adapt and found ways to make it work.

By the time he had to fly to Malaysia for the next race, he was already miles behind the progress he’d wanted to make with the team.

The interview, too, came and went, a bit disappointing from Gabi’s perspective.

He expected something grand, something unique, something that would show the world just how good he is. And instead, all he got was a simple street report, a cameraman, and an interviewer asking him a handful of questions before walking off.

At least it wasn’t bad, he tried to tell himself, and reflect on Felipe’s words, too.

He’d only shown he was capable of moving up; he needed to prove that he could maintain that position, too. He couldn’t get ahead of himself.

For that reason, he asked to receive the seat next to Pedro on the plane, hoping to discuss some strategy with him. It was unnerving, perhaps a little scary, but he had to do it if he wanted to improve.

When the plane started taking off, Gabi rummaged in his carry-on bag for a few papers, heart pounding as he spoke words he’d been rehearsing for days.

”I’ve been thinking about some changes for the car that can help. The engine overheats very fast, which slows us down on straights. I have a few ideas here that maybe we can go through.”

Just as he was about to hand him one of the papers, a page ripped from a notebook with some sketches and messy handwriting about spacing in the car, Pedro raised his hand to stop him.

Gabi stared blankly, pausing in his movement.

He wasn’t sure why he was even so nervous. It was stupid. He was so stupid.

“It’s good you’re concerned for the car,” Pedro told him, eyes on his phone, almost as if he were talking to someone else. Ignoring Gabi completely.

”But we should focus on being drivers, not engineers.”

Gabi felt his shoulders slump, trying to ignore that pang in his chest. He turned his head away, voice unsteady. “I, yes, right.”

The rest of the flight was spent in silence, Gabi regretting every single choice that had led him up to that point. Papers crumpled up at the bottom of his bag, posture scrunched to the side, and leaning away from his teammate.

He couldn’t decide if he was more jealous of Fernando and Felipe for being able to maintain a good connection with each other, or of himself, his past self at least, and how infinitely better it was with Nico.

He wondered if Nico had gone through something similar with his own teammate, and that’s why he was always so kind to him.

Used to be kind to him, at least. Or will be? He wasn’t sure anymore. This was making his head hurt.

He just wanted to race and get his mind off of it.

“I want to try a new strategy.”

There was a pause on the other end of the radio, the sound of the Sauber’s engine roaring through the qualifying session filling the lack of a reply.

Eventually, Amir asked, “Now or in the race?”

”Both.” Gabriel clutched his hands around the steering wheel, making a sharp turn at the closest corner.

If there was any track he could do this in, it would be this one.

”I’m listening.”

”Not listen,” Gabi corrected, “Just watch.”

Those words were meant more for the audience to clip and quote after his performance if all goes to plan. He was going to prove himself in this race, and he was going to do it loud. 

The car wasn’t the fastest, to say the least, especially with so many straight lines on which the other cars picked up speed, but with some tactical drifts that looked good for the camera, he could use the corners to his advantage. Overtake and overlap.

Then, for the race itself, build a gap through the corners and pit on the straights.

All this relied on was him getting a higher position than his teammate, knowing he’d be ordered to let Pedro stay in front no matter the situation.

He worked hard to qualify P15; much less satisfying than his last performance, of course, but consistent enough to keep himself relevant.

And, as luck would have it, Pedro crashed without enough time to fix his car for the race.

That’s how Gabi found himself on the track, being the sole representative of his team, his words from the previous day on the line.

If this works, the media will be all over him. Calling him the next star. The one with potential. A future world champion.

And if not?

Well, thinking about it wouldn’t do any good.

That’s the mentality he set himself as he stepped into the car once again, adjusting his visor before a radio check.

”One, two, can you hear me?”

A suspiciously excited voice agreed, “Loud and clear.”

With lights out, he sped with sheer will and energy, already overtaking a car by the first corner. Plenty more to come, he thought.

Until the curve between the fifth and corner, he had to defend, making sure he kept his position while losing speed to the other cars. The curved turns did well for him, however, brushing just past another car and into P13.

”Doing good,” Amir informed, “Don’t try attacking on the straights. Wait for the next lap.”

Even in the next lap, he struggled, the STR doing a surprisingly good job maintaining its position. He wasted about twenty laps going back and forth with it before pitting for new tires, which finally let him get the speed advantage.

”Three more to go.”

By the time half the race had finished, he managed to get himself up to 12th, so close to something that looked so far away just weeks prior.

And he was only made more determined to reach it when he saw the Williams in front of him.

”Which is it?” He asked, closing in on the gap between them as he waited for a response.

”Which is what?”

”Is it Nico or the other one?” He clarified.

A pause. He could practically hear a smirk in Amir’s voice. “The other one? I didn’t know you were close with Hulkenberg.”

”I, well,” Gabi started, nearly hitting the Williams in front of him as he swerved. “Talk after the race. Just say which is it?”

”You’re up against Barrichello for P11, Hulkenberg on P10.”

A double fight.

Twice the effort but twice the reward.

It took just one corner after being enlightened for him to overtake Rubens Barrichello, now left with only one opponent keeping him away from points.

And he was going to get them no matter what it took.

It was a tough fight, a Williams and a Sauber desperately going against each other for a shred of points like they were fighting for a championship title. And, in a way, it felt like it for Gabi.

It was the most challenging thing he had ever gone through in a Formula One car, and the most fun at that.

By the final lap, he’d manage to overtake Nico by half a tenth of a second. Barely enough for flashing cameras and calculated computers to find out.

However, Fernando Alonso had gotten a penalty, dropping him from 7th to 13th.

Meaning he and Nico were P9 and P10, respectively.

Both earning the first points for their teams this season. Both participating in the same post-race interview. Both rookies who outperformed their teammates for the first time.

Only Gabi did it a sliver of a second faster.

And that barely-there gap of time meant everything.

The second he stepped out of the car, Peter was by his side, patting his back and thanking him like he’d just saved his child from a burning building. Amir was at his side, cheering like a madman, and the pit crew was clapping and congratulating him.

The only person who didn’t look happy was Pedro, who mumbled a small “Good job,” before disappearing somewhere inside the paddock.

But Gabi couldn’t be bothered less by him right now.

The post-race procedures came and went, habits formed since his F3 days, and adjustments made by his team. This time, however, the moments of calm silence were filled with screaming fans and delighted engineers. He loved the fame, the praise, every single part of it, but even he needed peace.

But instead, he was met with a Sauber team member rushing him to a room with reporters and cameras all around. There was a couch in the middle of it, a few drivers already sitting, making themselves comfortable next to their teammates and rivals.

He’d been there before. Well, not in this room specifically, but in this situation.

He’d sit next to Nico or Max, neither of whom was present at the moment, make jokes or slide comments at the questions they’d receive, and later complain about the media.

He scanned the large couch for a long moment, unsure what to do, until Sebastian waved to catch his attention.

Gabi hesitated for just a moment before sitting down next to the four-time world-champion-to-be.

“You did it,” was the first thing Seb told him, a bright smile on his face.

Those words meant so much more to Gabi than he would ever realize.

”Not yet,” He half-joked, “Long way until the championship.”

Sebastian stared at him for a moment while Mark, sitting on his other side, held back a chuckle. “Our deal, I meant. Said we’d talk when you score some points. You did it.”

Gabi blinked, just for a moment, their first interaction replaying in his head. Right.

”I’m joking. I remember that,” He quickly dismissed, before launching into a more in-depth discussion of the race. He could tell that Sebastian was intrigued, and from the way the drivers around them leaned in or added to the conversation, he could tell they were, too.

Finally. He was getting the attention he worked so hard to get.

That sweet, sweet interest that he had from all nine other people now seated around him. Even Nico.

Even Nico.

Before he could dwell on that thought or keep staring at that face for a few seconds too long, the interview started.

A good amount of the questions, unsurprisingly, were directed at the other drivers; the podium finishers, experienced drivers who were fighting for the championship title, something that the audience preferred to focus on. But it was undeniable that his performance in the last two races was phenomenal, and he received his own fair share of related and almost intrusive questions.

“What sparked this sudden shift in the results?”

A mix of strategy, determination, and dishonesty. Even if he left the last part out. Ironic.

“How are you feeling after scoring your team points at only your third ever Formula One race?”

He almost slipped out about this being far from his third ever, but managed to dismiss it.

It did remind him, though, of just how impressive the fact was that Nico managed to naturally do what he only managed with a year ahead of experience. He had the extra time, but Nico’s skill, even this year, was incredibly hard to match.

And then, a question to Nico; “How do you feel about being outperformed by another rookie on your best day?”

A beat of silence passed, and Gabi didn’t have to know him for a year to know this spiked a nerve.

But the reply was calm, confident, almost cocky.

”If you make no mistakes, you will never improve.”

Again, that feeling of doubt started to creep in. That confusion, unsure if Nico was joking or subtly attacking him. Questioning his talent, his results, his experience.

And, well, he was right to do so, which only made Gabi feel worse.

The interview continued, however, not waiting for his feelings to get mended as the questions resumed. Through time, the topics shifted from the race to personal lives, things that Gabi thought all too well about faking or confessing.

One spokesperson in particular had asked him, “Gabriel, what inspired you to become a Formula One driver?”

The answer, ‘Sebastian Vettel’, played on his tongue and was left unsaid. Instead, he gave somewhat of a straw man, enough to get the reporter to move on without giving any solid explanation. Paired with name-dropping something known enough not to be asked for elaboration, and he’d be off the hook easily.

”As a kid, I used to watch a lot of movies. I would always see the heroes working hard to get what they want, like in Titanic or in sports documentaries, and I’d think how much I wanna do it too. And here I am.”

His answer was met with a few chuckles, a comment or two about hoping his career doesn’t end like the Titanic, and they moved on.

But a certain pair of eyes settled on him, a gaze he couldn’t help but return for a moment, just to check.

On his right, two drivers between them, sat Nico, staring at him wide-eyed.

A single, quiet, “You watched Titanic?” Left him, voice barely a mutter while the interview around them continued.

He couldn’t tell why Nico sounded so surprised.

They’d watched it together, after all. Nico had insisted he had to ‘teach Gabi how things were back in his day', which apparently included watching a bunch of heartbreaking and equally romantic films together before sharing detailed commentary.

”Yeah,” He replied, whispering over the continuing discussion around them, “Can't live without tragedy movies. Masterpieces.”

And, for the first time since Gabi had arrived here, Nico Hulkenberg smiled at him.

Fully, completely, grinned. The kind of happiness you’d find in a race winner, not in someone discovering his secret pleasure was shared by someone he knew.

Seeing that smile again made Gabi feel something warm in his chest. He’d missed it.

And he would have gladly let that exchange of words develop into a full dissection of various movie plots and endings if not for Sebastian nudging him with something about ‘flirting with the other rookies later’.

Chapter Text

Gabriel was practically beaming with excitement during the morning before qualifying in the Chinese Grand Prix, even arriving early at the paddock to chat with the engineers before free practice.

In Kick Sauber, he did that all the time; he and Nico would grab breakfast before meeting with the team, always buying something extra to offer around as chatters filled the room. Conversations would often brush past strategies or tyre management to gossip or politics, neither of which Gabi was very interested in, but any arguments were resolved into laughter and warmth.

Now, though? The atmosphere was different. Not bad, necessarily, just… different.

The conversations were lacklusterly dry, nods and polite greetings exchanged instead of heartfelt small talk or genuine interest.

He tried, at first, to sit around the pit crew in the break room, but the moment he sat down around some faces he vaguely recognised, the conversations dimmed into glances and uncomfortable silence.

A few were kind enough to reciprocate his chatting, but a few bites into his sandwich, and it was evident he wasn’t wanted.

Next, he tried the strategy team. Unlike the pit crew, they seemed happy he was there, mayhaps a little too happy, even; any attempt to ask about their personal lives was met with quick responses and digressing into race-related talk.

It was exhausting, like all they lived and breathed was Formula One. As if they could have no more connection to Gabi.

His race engineer, also at the table, tried to comfort him with a small excuse, “That’s how it is over here,” But he didn’t buy it very much.

He knew that it was the one thing they all had in common, but by the time his performance was brought up for the twentieth time, he excused himself and got up.

His next stop was his teammate’s driver’s room.

Pedro was in the middle of having his own breakfast, a half-eaten pastry in his hand and a cup of coffee settled on the small table in front of him. He looked at Gabriel, a mix of confusion and surprise on his face. He almost forgot to answer Pedro’s “Can I help you?” But quickly came back to his senses.

”Oh, uh, I was looking for somewhere to eat. Can I join you?”

Pedro gave him a strange look, considering it for a moment before returning a small nod. By that response, Gabi guessed that it wasn’t particularly common for teammates to do this.

Which was strange, since he and Nico hung out together like it was second nature, finding each other for whatever reason or none at all to spend time together or chat.

He settled on the couch next to his teammate, taking his food out as his eyes wandered around the room.

It was similar to what he expected, white walls adorned with shelves displaying various potted plants, some belongings spread on top of a red cabinet, a decently expensive carpet under his feet and the red couch they were currently sitting on.

“I hear the season is going pretty well for you,” Pedro noted, snapping Gabi’s attention back to him.

“Yes, very much,” He said, thankful that their conversation was turning out to be somewhat normal. He couldn’t deny that he was a little intimidated by him sometimes, but Pedro seemed kind, and Peter praised him a lot. So he felt a bit more comfortable about being open with him. “I hoped I would’ve been as good in the first race as I was in Malaysia, but now I know the car better, and I’ll do much better on track, too.”

To that, Pedro gave a small smile. “That’s a good attitude. When I was starting out, I was always scared of messing up and ended up holding myself back. Most rookies do.”

Gabi nodded, somewhat relating to that. He had to admit there were a few times he let his thoughts get the better of him in 2025, left out risky gaps or lost hope too early when he should have kept going.

But he wasn’t going to let that happen again. Not for a single race.

Pedro continued, “Just make sure not to get ahead of yourself.”

This made Gabi raise an eyebrow, swallowing a bit of his sandwich before forming a response. “Do what?”

”Don’t be overconfident,” Pedro explained, tone gentle like he was talking to a child. Gabi wasn’t sure if he was being genuine or sarcastic, both options making him frown. “You have your first year to learn the limits of your skill and your car, so don’t set your expectations too high.”

Swallowing down the urge to say that it, in fact, wasn’t his first year, and that Pedro was underestimating him, Gabi’s tone sharpened a little. “I think I know my limits enough. It’s not my first time driving a Formula car. And I’ve been talking with my engineer about upgrades for the car, so there’s no reason I shouldn’t do well.”

This caused the slightest twinge in the curve of Pedro’s lips. “I understand where you’re coming from, Bortoleto, but perhaps playing engineer is overstepping a bit.”

The way he worded that made something in Gabi’s pulse spike.

Playing engineer. Like he wasn’t a 20-year-old man doing his job, but a little kid, out of place and trying to prove he’s the best.

They finished the last of their food in silence before Gabi walked off.

He barely glanced back to notice Pedro’s unsatisfied frown, but he didn’t add anything else. Those words alone were enough to ignite the fuse in Gabi’s eyes, giving him all the more motivation to win this.

He’d do the impossible. He doesn’t care what it takes from him or how hard it will be.

He’ll prove Pedro wrong. He’ll prove everyone and everything standing in his way wrong. He had more than enough time to do so.

What he didn’t have time for, he quickly realised, was getting to FP3 on time, which quickly sent him running to get into his racing suit.

He scored P7 in practice.

Frankly, multiple teams were dealing with mechanical issues that caused the grid to narrow down to just under 16 cars, but the feat stayed embedded in his mind as qualifying started.

He had to do this. He will do this.

Even if he wasn’t quite sure what ‘this’ was. His mind screamed one and one thing only; drive faster.

And that he did.

After the first few laps, he’d found his rhythm; gain momentum through the straights, keep steady at the corners and always leave space between each car he flew by.

He went all out in Q1, pushing the car out through Q2 before he reached the vehicle’s limits. The concept of a maximum speed, a number that could not be raised no matter how persistent he was, felt almost daunting, but he refused to let it get to him.

He had too much on the line. If he needed to defy physics to win this, then be it.

Managing a top speed that earned him P13 felt good, a kind of success that burned through his lungs as he exited the car, the rush of adrenaline still coursing through his body.

Waiting for him outside, he was greeted by Peter’s praise; “Great job out there,” he patted his shoulder, “I want to see more of this from you.”

If Gabi weren't so busy getting the most of this sudden rush of determination, he would have answered with more than a nod.

He wanted to go straight to Pedro, hear what he had to say now, but he put that to the back of his mind. He can do that after the race, after his actions live up to his words. So instead, he took an Uber back to the team’s issued hotel, stopping on the way to buy some takeout, and ended up eating it in front of the TV.

It wasn’t exactly a conscious choice to put on Titanic, but he ended up too invested to stop.

He cried at the ending just as much as he did the first time he’d seen it with Nico.

“Radio check?”

”Clear,” Gabriel confirmed into the car’s radio, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel.

He’d never felt more confident about a race before, even if P14 didn’t feel very special after his phenomenal performance over the last two races.

The car had felt great the day before, even if a little different, but he was sure as hell going to make the most of it. Gabi was a beast at overtaking; it was something he’d learnt all the way back in his F2 career under Fernando’s guidance, though he was always there to make sure he didn't get too cocky about it.

But he didn’t need anyone holding him back now. He’d had plenty of time to learn his abilities, and they were getting better by the race.

As soon as the lights went out, Gabi sped like his life depended on it; he could hear Amir’s amused chuckle at his aggression going into the first few turns.

He managed to get the car in front of him by sending it down the inside, taking a straight line through the curve of the track without going off limits. By the next corner, he was accumulating a gap and racing to catch up with the Renault ahead.

Even after giving a few good attempts, he couldn’t get through, and heading into the straight meant he was in danger of being gapped.

It didn’t make sense to him; the gaps were just too small for him to fit, and every opportunity that was created immediately got shut. He usually didn’t spend time thinking during a race; right now, he was doing nothing but it.

”Wait for the turn change,” Amir then spoke, “Make sure you keep up.”

”I’m trying,” He replied, perhaps a bit too quipped.

When the corner came, he managed to close in on the car again, staying just far enough to avoid contact before he lost the trail again.

”Fucking damn it,”

The anger didn’t seem to deter his engineer, just surprise him a bit. “You’ll get it next corner. Don’t let it get to your head.”

Three more laps went by with no improvement, each sharp hold on the gas earning too little acceleration, each reaction just a little too slow, and every damn thing just a tiny bit not enough.

He was starting to lose his focus, but finally, he managed through, cutting the Renault through a sharp corner, threatening it off the track until it backed down.

Amir’s voice, “P13, nicely done,” Rang through his helmet, earning a subtle smirk.

Finally, his work was paying off.

There was a two-second gap before the next car in front of him, one which he spent a few laps narrowing down, approaching it sharply.

“Overtaking now,” He announced to the radio, positioning the car right to squeeze past the one in front.

However, instead of the confirmation he expected, Amir replied, “Not yet. Wait for a bigger gap.”

Gabi’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, if that was even possible. “If I always waited for a bigger gap, it would never come,”

”Don’t risk the crash, attempt on the third sector. You’ll have more space.”

”I don’t care about the space, I don’t have time to wait for it.”

”Gabriel,”

Amir’s voice sharpened, not hostile, but grounding. Like Gabi was being irrational and his engineer needed to be the bigger person.

Like he was mocking him.

Gabi didn’t care. The opportunity was slipping out of his fingers, and he was not willing to let that happen.

Not now, not when he’d come this far.

His hands jerked the steering wheel to the side, sending it through the outside, going side to side with the other car before they ran into a straight-

And it all exploded.

The car was going so fast he barely had time to register the spinning, nor the way the wind got knocked out of his lungs when he made contact with a foam wall.

His mind felt blurry after that. The side of his car shattered, a piece hitting his head like the bang of a hammer breaking concrete.

There was a long moment of silence, of nothing, of everything. The fire still burning through his body, sharp and warm, faint words coming through the radio. He was too dazed to listen, picking up on some cursing in what he could only assume was Arabic and the sounds of cars zooming past him.

He doesn’t know how much time passed before he saw a figure, then three more, all helping him up. He doesn’t quite remember where they brought him, only that it was cold and smelled like coughing syrup, and there was an older woman who took his vitals and cleaned him up.

He can barely recall anything after that until he was sent out, hair wet from an ice bath he was tossed into, clothes feeling heavy on his body.

He didn’t know where he was supposed to go, what he was supposed to do. He’d never crashed before, if this is what he should call it, and wasn’t prepared for… whatever this feeling was. Nothing. Everything. All of it at once.

His legs moved without intent, no destination in mind as he strolled through the area surrounding the track.

He wasn’t sure when he’d reached the paddock, or why he chose to go around it where people couldn’t see. Or, mayhaps that was the reason, and he just didn’t want to admit it.

The feeling of a brick wall against his back lulled him out of his thoughts as he settled down, eyes closing momentarily.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, actually, before he felt something cold and wet against his arm.

His eyes jerked open, staring up at a man standing in front of him, a hint of concern on his face.

There was a water bottle in his hand, which he nudged Gabi with.

”Ah.”

Nico stared at him, making a wave of insecurity wash over Gabi at the thought of how dishevelled he must look. He cleared his throat.

“You, uh, thanks,” He mumbled, taking the bottle and popping the cap open, leaning it against his lips as cool liquid filled his mouth.

A few moments passed in silence before he heard shifting, Nico settling down next to him.

That finally prompted Gabi to mutter, “You okay?”

Nico looked at him tentatively. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?”

Gabi frowned. “Well, you didn’t.”

”How rude of me.” Nico smiled; a small, humorous smile that made Gabi want to return it. “Are you okay?”

”You missed your chance already,” Gabi huffed, shoving Nico’s shoulder with the now-empty bottle, causing the other to chuckle.

It almost took him a moment to remember that this wasn’t, in fact, the Nico he was used to bantering like this with, and instead was the guy who spoke to him like some obsessive fan.

Then why was he being so nice to him?

”Everyone’s wondering where you’d gone,” Nico added after a pause.

Gabi looked at him again, surprised. “Are they?”

”Not really. But Vitaly asked, so I went to look for you.”

Right. Of course that was the reason.

But then again, Nico wouldn’t have spent time searching for him just because someone mentioned it. Then again, he was the kind of person to do that, at least for someone he cared about. Did he care for Vitaly? Was he doing a favour to a friend or just trying to be polite?

He was overthinking again. This wasn’t important right now.

”Right. Uh, we should get back out there.”

Nico nodded, getting up and dusting himself off for a moment, staring down at Gabi. He hesitated, almost like he was going to offer a hand to help him up, but didn’t do so in the end.

Right.

Gabi followed soon, finally taking a moment to look around and gauge his surroundings. The sun was definitely in a different state than it was when they’d arrived. He still needed to check how long he’d been here for. The race had clearly finished by now, at least. He was almost about to reach for his phone when Nico spoke up again.

”You still didn’t answer the question.”

Gabi glanced at him again, confused. “What question?”

”Are you okay?”

Oh.

”Yes, yeah I am.”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Gabi’s lips before turning around to walk back towards the paddock.

Gabriel spent the rest of his days before the flight to the Spanish Grand Prix focusing on a few tasks.

The first and most important one was avoiding Pedro.

They didn’t have many team meetings he needed to be involved in, thankfully, and the one PR interview he was forced to participate in wasn’t with his teammate either. It had gone smoothly for the most part, keeping a smile on his face and trying not to speak too much.

Which, knowing his big mouth, was a difficult feat to accomplish, but he managed.

He wasn’t sure why the thought of facing Pedro again scared him so much. Maybe it was because he’d warned him about this, but he still got ahead of himself. He still wasted a perfectly good start, an opportunity for points, and cost god knows how much in repairs for the car.

It was entirely different from crashing, the few minor times he did, in 2025.

They had a team of medics by his side at all times, escorting him back to a designated room in the team’s garage before he was allowed to go home. But this time, he was just left on his own, confused and lost.

But Nico was there, so he managed to survive.

Pedro would probably manage to poke a thousand holes in the race strategy, let alone how he dealt with the crash, but he didn’t want to think of that right now. Mostly because, well, Pedro was right.

He did get cocky. And that did ruin his race.

He should have listened to him.

His next task, though, was proving Pedro wrong. Slowly and steadily, he’d prove him wrong.

For now, all this meant was doing the exact thing Pedro warned him against; meddling with the car. Since he was a young kid racing in his older brother’s used go-karts, he memorised the functionality like the palm of his hand. Moreso, his debut win in Formula Three was all thanks to his knowledge of the car and its systems.

So he spent a total of five hours on the phone with Amir on separate days, discussing upgrades and improvements while trying to sprinkle bits of knowledge he had of modern technology in hopes that something would catch on and be added.

It wasn’t cheating, not any more than having a year's head start was. Gabi preferred to call it thinking ahead.

It was only a matter of time before the team reached those understandings, anyway. He was just giving them a little push.

And it seemed to have worked, as new upgrades have been installed in time for Spain. He wasn’t exactly sure if they were the ones he suggested, but he was given the contact details of the lead engineer, so he assumed he’d done something right.

The third and final task he set for himself was making a list of every film he’d watched with Nico to make sure he wouldn’t bring up ones that don’t exist.

Maybe, if things had gone better, this would be a list of movies they watch again.

Could it?

And the more he paced around in his team-issued hotel or tried to block the thought out of his mind, the more it kept coming back.

He missed Nico. That was undoubtable. He missed the jokes they would share, the hours spent on racing simulators or talking to each other like old friends, and most of all, he missed those smiles he’d grace him with.

Those sweet, loving smiles that told Gabi how much Nico appreciated him.

And now? The few times Nico actually smiles at him, it’s barely even polite. Sure, he gave him water one time. But that was all there was to it. A driver seeing another in distress and offering help.

This was Nico he was thinking about, he was kind enough to help anyone like that. Even if the genuine tone in that “are you okay?” Kept ringing in his head.

He needed to clear his head and stop thinking about this.

So he pulled out his phone, wanting to play some mobile game for quick dopamine, but his eyes caught a notification from the rookie’s group chat.

[ ~ Vitaly Petrov ]

I have a good feeling about Spain

Hope you all manage to keep up

[ ~ Bruno Senna ]

That’s bold to say after China.

[ ~ Vitaly Petrov ]

The crash wasn’t my fault!!

@Gabriel Bortoleto tell him

Gabi stared at the screen, fingers hovering over the pop-up keyboard. He wasn’t sure what, or even if, he should answer.

Of course the crash had been his fault. He knew that he had got caught up in the heat of the moment and lost control. He knew that this was on no one’s shoulders but his.

And still, it didn’t feel particularly good to be reminded of it.

But before he could settle on an answer, the typing bubble appeared.

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

If you were fast enough to move past him there wouldn’t be a crash.

So whose fault is it really?

Gabi’s fingers hit the keyboard faster than he could stop himself.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

It was my bad

Not Petrov’s fault he’s stuck in a Renault

He didn’t mean it in a hostile way, of course not. In his perspective, he was defending Vitaly; or, well, showing Nico that he didn’t need to be defended. That he can stand up for himself. That he isn’t as weak as he probably looked after his crash.

But his message must have come off as condescending, as the chat filled with laughing emojis within seconds.

[ ~ Karun Chandhok ]

Priceless

[ ~ Sebastien Buemi ]

I didn’t know you had that in you.

[ ~ Vitaly Petrov ]

Rude

At least I don’t need my boyfriend to come defend me

If I’m that slow let's make a bet

Whoever does better in Spain wins

Gabi tried to ignore the weird feeling that spread in his chest at the jab.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

And what will I win?

[ ~ Vitaly Petrov ]

IF you win

Then I’ll buy you lunch after the race

[ ~ Bruno Senna ]

I’d like in, if possible.

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

Agreed.

Shouldn’t ever pass up free food.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Sure, deal

Don’t feel bad when everyone here owes me lunch

Mere hours before FP1, now on Spanish soil in one of Gabriel’s most anticipated tracks, Amir spotted and sat next to him as he ate breakfast.

He’d given up finding little pre-race traditions like he did in Kick Sauber, instead sitting in his driver’s room and scrolling on his phone to relax. The company was welcomed, obviously, but seemed a little too casual after the team made it so clear they keep things professional.

Maybe he read their reactions wrong? Or was it just his engineer taking pity on him?

That didn’t really matter, though, he told himself before zoning in to listen to Amir speak.

”Do you know why the crash with Petrov happened?”

Gabi stared at him, confusion written on his face. What kind of question was that?

”Yes, uh, I think so.”

”Why did it?”

Gabi hesitated, trying to form the words correctly in his mind before explaining. “I was pushing too hard and didn’t think he would defend enough for us to collide. There wasn’t enough space, but I really wanted that position.”

Amir listened to him attentively, leaning back on the small couch in the room comfortably. “Almost,” He corrected, but his tone was neither rude nor condescending. “You were pushing too hard when you should have waited until there was enough space.”

That caused Gabi to frown. “If I wait, he’d gap me.”

”Not if you stay on his tail,” Amir insisted, “Accidents happen all the time, but the best thing you can do is learn from them. Racing is about speed, obviously, but you need to learn where to take your time.”

”If I spend time thinking what to do, I’d lose it anyway.”

”That’s what you have the strategy department for,” Amir chuckled lightly, “And me to bring their orders to you.”

Gabi hated that it made sense.

He’d spent years of his life developing his strategies, perfecting his sharp and aggressive racing skills until they flowed like instinct, only to have all of his efforts dismissed under the guise of being too fast. Too quick, too decisive, too much of a racing driver. Then why was it bad? Did he overdo it to the point he wasn’t enough?

He didn’t like these kinds of questions flowing through his mind, ones that he couldn’t even begin to answer. Maybe he really did need more experience.

But wasn’t that what he came here for in the first place? Get a head start, grow and develop into a championship-winning driver, be the world’s very best like he dreamed of since he was a young child.

Why did he dream about this in the first place?”

”Bortoleto?”

Gabi snapped back to the conversation, sitting up as if he was startled. He tried to shake the feeling away, instead focusing on his name being spoken.

And that brought a different, much less important question to mind. “Why do you call people by their last names?”

Amir raised an eyebrow, clearly not having expected that. “Well, it’s formal. Most race crew does it.”

“But you’re not just race crew,” Gabi retorted, smiling a bit as he sank back into the couch. “My old engineer and I were good friends, he was really fun to talk to. Not just about race stuff, you know?”

It was only when Amir questioned, “Old race engineer? As in, the lower Formulas?” that Gabi realised what he said, his tone taking a nervous edge.

”No, no, I- yes, that. Uh, lower Formulas. Very nice engineers.”

Amir snorted in response, not paying too much mind to it. If anything, he found Gabi’s rush of words amusing. “Well, I can call you Gabriel if you’d like. Or, Gabi, would it be?”

It was only a name, barely that, even, but Gabi knew there would be more to his answer than just that. He could try to get closer to him, maybe actually develop a bond or a friendship. He could have someone to confide in, an actual friend in this reality.

”Gabi is good,” He murmured in agreement, trying not to let his smile get too large.

Amir returned it. “Alright, then,” He clapped his hands together, “Now to the race strategy.”

The free practices before qualifying were a mix of effort, frustration and failure, all bundled up like a neatly wrapped ‘fuck you’ delivered to make Gabriel’s confidence plummet.

Peter took him aside to talk, a conversation Gabi didn’t have it in him to listen to, only registering a mix of “You’ve got this,” and “Do your best.”

All he wanted to do was go back home and sleep, even if he wasn’t sure what home was at this point. The paddock. His hotel. 2025. His family’s house. Anything that could give him some peace of mind.

He was used to ruthlessly training on the sims for hours at a time, spending a year with mixed results in Kick Sauber, and dealing with car issues beyond his control in karting.

But this time? He had no one to blame for the results but himself.

He tried to take the advice to heart, he really did, but he never got it quite right. Intuition always told him to go for it, to do things clean cut and fast. He was a racing driver; it was in his blood. But Amir contradicted it. Not always, not often, but enough times for it to matter.

He wrecked his mind trying to understand where he was coming from, how every decision was made, yet the only conclusion he could come to was that his engineer knew better than him.

For everyone, he was just a rookie. It was his first year, of course he’d mess up. Of course he wouldn’t understand things immediately. But he’d already done this once, so why wasn’t he doing better? Did he even learn anything from his first year in F1, or was it all a waste?

Needless to say, that was far from the ideal attitude to have when going into qualifying, but Amir’s voice tried to comfort him through the helmet.

”Don’t think about the strategy right now,” He told him, “Focus on driving. You’re not doing this alone, so do your part, not mine.”

”Okay,” He muttered dryly.

Within a flash, qualifying began, and Gabi was racing like his life depended on it.

The last time he had driven on this track, he made it to Q2 and finished just two positions behind the points. And he was fully intent on making it to the top ten this time.

It took him time to find a good balance of speed and control; in most races, he did anything he could to push the car to the limits, which sometimes resulted in oversteer or crashes when the car reacted harsher than he expected.

But he didn’t need to fill the role of the car, only that of the driver. Three laps were exactly how much he needed to find it.

He sped past cars like he was driving a Ferrari, slammed down corners like his hands were designed for that steering wheel, and pressed forward until the muscles in his neck ached like never before.

It was one hell of a performance to put into Q1, but he matched it perfectly with the next two sessions.

By the time Q3 was finished, having put a good lap in but still ending in P10, his body felt hot with adrenaline and sharp with pride.

When he got out of the car, his team was cheering, and Peter even came to congratulate him.

”Fantastic work,” he said, patting Gabi’s back as he took off his helmet, “I knew these upgrades would do you well. Really, that was incredible.”

Gabi only returned that with a smile, a bit disappointed that everything he’d just put into that race was summed up as a new car upgrade, but that’s not to say he wasn’t used to it. When he had a teammate like Nico, who could probably drag this Sauber into a podium too, he got used to fans attributing everything to a well-made car.

This Sauber might be better than the 2025 one, at least when compared to the other cars on the grid, but that didn’t make the performance any less his.

Later, when he went to cool down where the rest of the drivers were, he was greeted with pats and praise from drivers he didn’t even know the name of.

It felt good, so good, to be appreciated again. To be seen as the driver he was.

They knew what it was like to be in his place. They probably saw how shit the Sauber really was, and some of them were dealing with their own uncooperative cars. Even Sebastian Vettel and Michael Schumacher gave him a nod when he walked by them, which, if he told himself as a child that these legends would look at him like that after racing alongside them, he would have never believed.

He was planning to approach Vitaly and tease him about the bet, but his path was interrupted by a hand grabbing his arm and pulling him against a broad presence. He didn’t have to look up to know Fernando was grinning.

”How’s our new point scorer feeling?” He asked, releasing Gabi from his hold after a moment of laughter.

”Didn’t score a point yet,” Gabi reminded him, smiling as he turned to face him fully. “And I will get more than one in the race.”

Fernando raised his eyebrows, looking pleased at the answer. “Really?”

”Really,” Gabi echoed, completely certain. He didn’t even doubt it for a moment; he was going to work as hard as he needed to for those points. “Don’t be surprised if I’ll be next to you on the podium.”

Fernando ruffled his hair, a quick, affectionate gesture that lasted barely a moment, but felt far more parental than this Fernando should be comfortable with.

Then again, this was the same Fernando Alonso he’d known and admired as a child, only to now race alongside. The same Fernando who referred to him as his hijo, his son, in enough private conversations to become a nickname.

The same Fernando who, after ruffling his hair, crossed his arms and eyed him in mock suspicion. “You better live up to your word if you’re going to get a podium to my win.”

”You better do the same and get that win from your P3.”

Of course, Gabi knew that wasn’t going to happen.

He didn’t prepare nearly as much as he should have for the travel, still wanting to make it before he turned twenty one, but one thing he was sure about was that he knew the winners of each race. And he would absolutely remember if Fernando won his home race that year, too.

Realistically, he could have had each grid result memorised every race if he’d given himself more time, but ended up deciding against it.

What’s the point of racing if you know how everything will turn out, after all?

Well, he didn’t know his own results at least, and he doubted they would be replacing whatever unfortunate soul was supposed to be driving for Sauber instead of him. He was determined to make the most of his seat here, and with that, of this qualifying session.

Mark Webber might take the win on this one, but Gabi is aiming for third.

He was going to get as far as he physically could, and some more after that.

No matter what it takes.

By the time his chat with Fernando ended, Vitaly was already back in his paddock and gone. He sighed, figuring he could always wait until tomorrow.

Rubbing it in will be so much sweeter after he gets the better score, after all.

Before the race, the strategy team sat him and Pedro down to discuss the plan.

It made him uneasy to sit next so close to his teammate while feeling so distant from him, especially after hearing that he only qualified P22. Though, they barely spent time discussing that, more focused on getting the most of Gabriel’s P10.

He tried to focus, he really did, but he couldn’t help glancing at Pedro whenever an engineer compared their results or cracked a joke at his expense. He knew what it felt like to be overshadowed by your teammate, even if Nico always made an effort to include him in things.

Nico was incredible in every way a driver could be, let alone a human. The results he pulled from the Kick Sauber while Gabi was stuck battling the lower midfield should have been impossible, but he pulled through it. That was just the kind of driver he was. So no wonder Gabi was left behind him as the inexperienced rookie.

But now the tables have turned, at least for this one race.

It wasn’t exactly Pedro’s fault, either. He’d only managed two good laps, and they were both far slower than intended. But here he was, getting outscored by his seemingly inexperienced, rookie teammate.

A brief tinge of guilt nudged at Gabi, knowing that the only reason they were treating Pedro like this was because of his lie.

His lie about being new. Of claiming ignorance to what was happening. Of not having an entire year extra under his belt in far better machinery.

He forced it away by speaking up and giving his own thoughts on the strategy.

He could see Pedro’s expression twitch whenever he did, but chose to ignore it. Today was about him, and about the result he was going to get.

Twenty five minutes before the race started, Gabriel’s phone buzzed.

[ ~ Fernando Alonso ]

I hope you’re serious about the podium hijo

Show Felipe you’re the faster Brazilian 

He grinned down at his phone, quickly typing back. He wasn’t fluent in Spanish, but he knew enough to know that hijo meant son.

Fernando called him that the first time they met in person as racers, just before the 2022 season.

He missed hearing it from him.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Am

Faster Brazilian but slower car

Hope you’re serious about the win too

[ ~ Fernando Alonso ]

More than serious

Promise that if you get the podium I’ll get the win.

His smile softened a bit. It felt almost wrong to agree to that, knowing fully well that Fernando was going to end up second place and wouldn’t fulfil his side of the promise.

He could tell him. He could spare all the frustration from the loss and just tell him now. He could save Fernando from the inevitable disappointment by breaking it now.

But if he did, would there even still be a point to racing?

How do you keep trying for the win if you know you’ll never get it no matter what?

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Not promise

Bet

[ ~ Fernando Alonso ]

Cheeky

Fine. Bet

Win win or lose lose, have it your way

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

See you in the race

[ ~ Fernando Alonso ]

If you can see me from back there

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

:(

Mean

Bad dad

[ ~ Fernando Alonso ]

See you on the podium

The strategy they reached for Gabi in the race ended up being simpler than he expected. He almost expected it to be anticlimactic, but he couldn’t be more glad to be proven wrong.

He defended hard in the straight before the first corner, being overtaken once but gaining that position back in the second corner.

As soon as he caught up to the car in front of him, an STR, he spoke to the radio.

”Overtake?” He checked.

”Not yet. Put some pressure on him.”

”Copy.”

Admittedly, he wasn’t sure why the team chose this route of all. Sure, it would secure him a minimum finish of 10th place, but he would hardly have time to overtake further.

Yet, he didn’t question it, instead focusing on staying close to the car ahead.

And put pressure he did, staying just a few milliseconds behind the STR at a time, making them both speed more and more away from the Williams in P11 behind them.

A few laps and two more checks in, the message was finally delivered; “Go for it.”

Like in a flick of a switch, Gabi turned sharply, leaning forward with his whole body as he savoured the excitement of the moment before he was just barely in front.

It was only a matter of a few smart corner dives before he had a growing gap between him and the STR, even if it damaged his tyres quite a bit.

Everything was a game of time.

Get himself enough time to pit without consequences, go onto the next car, and so on. The race was a quarter done already, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t finish it with that podium he’s been craving.

Every part of his body screamed at him to push forward, to speed up, to drive, but the orders in his headphones kept him grounded.

After pitting for fresh tyres, he set onto the next car, attacking the Mercedes in front down a curve.

But it seemed this one wasn’t going down as easily.

They went back and forth for three laps, taking turns leading by slivers of a second before just narrowly avoiding stepping over track limits, the fight both frustrating and fulfilling Gabi’s need for challenge.

”Give it time,” Amir told him as they headed into the straight again, “He’ll have to pit soon. You wanna try for the fastest lap?”

Gabi briefly considered it before focusing back on the road. “Will hardly need to try.”

He could practically hear his engineer’s grin as he delivered him the statistics.

With ten or so laps to go and the Mercedes not backing down, they had to recalculate a strategy. The car seemed allergic to the pit lanes, and Gabi’s tyres were starting to worsen the more they went on.

He yelled a few things that he probably shouldn’t have about the clearly better condition of the competitors' cars, even if he knew it would be no help. It wasn’t like they were going to start discussing race craft over the radio when he had a race to finish.

”It seems they’re going for a one-stop strategy,” Amir informed after a gap of silence, “We’re going to switch to plan B.”

”What was plan B?” Gabi questioned, caught off guard as he dove through another turn.

There was a brief silence on the other line. “Softs.”

”Softs? Are you crazy? One lap and they’ll be completely torn apart,” Gabi exclaimed, nearly swerving before strengthening his grip on the wheel again. “It’s too risky.”

”Gabi, team orders,” Amir said, his voice taking on a humorous edge. “And one lap is the point.”

He nearly choked as he tried to hold back a laugh. This can’t be serious. The fast corners will tear the soft tyres into pieces, and why would he switch them out for an overtake only to switch again?

Or, would he need to switch again, if that would be the last lap of the race?

”Ah,” he muttered quietly. A grin spread on his face.

He made sure to show the Mercedes exactly what he was going to get himself into until he finally heard the orders to box.

He stayed just right on the speed limits within the pit lane, cutting in smoothly for new tyres that were delivered with the speed of light. Within a blink, he was back on track, half a second behind the car in front.

In one corner, he cut that gap by two thirds.

That final lap was a battle of speed, waiting for the perfect chance to make his move, only for the car in front to defend harder than he’s ever seen. It might have been the best race he’s ever driven, with how absolutely thrilling it was.

The tenth corner moved into an S that Gabi was perfectly positioned in to take the inner route of, meaning that if he pushed the Mercedes enough to the side, he’d have no choice but to take the outer route.

He didn’t even have to speak before hearing Amir’s encouragement of, “Go get him, Gabi, come on!”

The other driver tried to get in his way, nearly colliding, but Gabi moved away just fast enough to get through the inner part of the S and speed right past. 

Not for a single moment did he slow down, continuing to chase the P7 in front even if he never reached it, only slowing down after he crossed that checkered flag.

After spending about half an hour being praised by his team and changing out of the sweaty race suit, Gabriel left for the cooldown room, completely thrilled.

It almost felt like he was still in the moment, still on that race track, still at a point of the competition that mattered.

He was heading for the area the media usually scattered around, intending to go congratulate Mark on his win and maybe chat a bit with Vitaly, when a swarm of interviewers spotted and started berating him with questions.

From getting points once again in a Sauber to outscoring his teammate, every single thing he did in that race seemed to invoke praise and criticism alike.

He didn’t really have an answer for why he didn’t end up going for the fastest lap, why he took certain turns here and there, and he certainly wasn’t going to discuss the team’s strategy on live television. Even after a year of experience with the press, he still found himself hesitating at certain questions, unsure how much or what to answer.

Thankfully, he was snapped out of it and saved by a hand clapping his shoulder while he was in the middle of passionately defending one of his turns.

”There you are,” Spoke a voice, unmistakably Fernando’s, even if it sounded much younger than Gabi was used to. Wonder why.

But, instead of speaking to him, he stepped by Gabi’s side and turned to the cameras.

”He did a very good job today, just watched the replay footage. Great stuff, really,” He patted Gabi’s shoulder again, “Shame it couldn’t be turned into a podium.”

Right. This was still Fernando he was talking with.

”Hey,” He huffed, teasingly shrugging Fernando’s hand off of him without making any effort to step away. “You didn’t do your part either, so don’t get mad at me.”

”I didn’t?” Fernando repeated, now fully turned to Gabi, pointing to himself in mock offence. “I only needed to get the win, no?”

Only, huh. Gabi wishes it were so easy for him to win a race that he could speak about it so casually. “Yes, and did you?”

”Si.”

Gabi stared at him, the teasing response about Mark he was about to say just barely staying in his open mouth. “You, you did?” He stuttered, almost forgetting himself for a second.

This couldn’t be, could it? Did Fernando actually win his home Grand Prix in 2010? No, there was no way. Gabi would’ve known it.

So why did it change? Nothing changed. Everything was exactly the same as in the 2010 he remembered. Same Ferrari, same teammate, same competition, same car.

The only difference was him.

Instead of letting his thoughts spiral in front of the camera, he stepped forward, lunging his arms at Fernando and grabbing him into a hug. The Spaniard, previously confused, laughed loudly and hugged him back.

”No one told you? Shame. I should speak with your engineers, they clearly don’t know what’s important.”

Gabi laughed, trying to focus on the pride he felt at Fernando for winning his home race instead of the knowledge that he shouldn’t have. “That’s amazing, Nando. I’ll watch the replay later. Winning from P3 is incredible.”

”Not as incredible as what you pulled in qualifying, but thank you,” Fernando said as he released Gabi from the hold. He took a step back, eyes darting around the room for a moment before they landed on a figure talking to the other podium finishers. He nodded towards them. “Felipe told me he’d like to speak with you again. Forgive him, he’s a little shy.”

Gabi could discreetly catch Felipe sending Fernando a glare when he said that, but didn’t question it.

”I will,” He promised, exchanging a few final words with Fernando before running off to speak with the other drivers.

He was on an absolute high. This is absolutely the best life gets.

Monaco, the location of the next race, was too infamous of a Grand Prix for Gabriel to resist travelling to early. He’d only raced there once, after all, and even if the result wasn’t too great, the city was still beautiful and the fans were more than thrilled to see him.

The only problem was, unfortunately, that Sauber had already booked flight tickets for much later in the week, and it was too short of a notice for Gabi to buy his own.

At times like this, he would usually go to Max. He had a private jet and loved to spend time with Gabi, so it was a win-win for both of them.

He didn’t even know if any of the other drivers had their own planes, let alone were willing to tolerate a ride with him in one.

He wasn’t sure when he told Nico this, if he even told him that, but the fact remained that he he called him barely an hour after leaving for the hotels to ask about his plans for Monaco.

”Um, I’m not sure,” Gabi spoke into the phone, feeling a bit awkward hearing that familiar voice but knowing it wasn’t the same person.

He tried not to let it get to him; however, forcing himself to relax. “I wanted to get there a few days before the race, but the team already bought tickets just before FP1. You?”

”You can come with me,” Nico replied almost immediately, “If you want to. My teammate has a private jet, so we can leave whenever.”

Gabi blinked.

He had to admit, this was the last thing he expected. It was nice to have Nico show interest in him; he honestly missed the long talks and jokes they used to share before he arrived here, and this Nico has also been nicer to him lately.

But a plane ride was something different. Why him of all people?

”Are you sure Barrichello is fine with that? I don’t want to bother him with another passenger.”

Nico was just as quick to brush the concern off. “Don’t worry, I checked with him already. There’s a screening of a play we’re going to see anyway, I thought you might like it if you watched Titanic.”

Gabi tried to sound teasing and not in awe as he pointed out, “You think about me often?”

The response took a few seconds. “I’ll tell you if you come.”

”Guess I’m coming, then.”

He could practically hear Nico’s smirk. “Well, I do as of late.”

Gabriel didn’t know much about Rubens Barrichello before travelling here. He was a great driver, just barely missing up on a few championships that were won by Sebastian. He was also Nico’s teammate, currently, driving for Williams.

The information he was especially concerned about lacking was Rubens’s personality.

If Nico got along with him, he’d have to be a good person. Did they get along with each other? Was Nico inviting him to spite Rubens? But that’s not something the Nico he knows would do. Maybe he would in the past, though.

What does ‘the Nico he knows’ even mean? He knows both Nicos. He would almost say he’s friends with both of them, but he isn’t exactly sure where he and Nico stand.

Should he ask Rubens if Nico thinks of him as often as he claimed?

None of these thoughts helped ease Gabi’s worries the following day, suitcases packed and being driven by a taxi to the location Nico sent him.

He tried to listen to some music, which didn’t help at all, then called Fernando who didn't answer, did the same with Seb who he assumed was on a call with Fernando, and finally gave in to his nervousness and texted Nico when he was roughly ten minutes away from the destination.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Hey

Is there anything I should know about Barrichello?

I don’t wanna piss him off by accident

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

Don’t worry about it.

Rubens is great, you’ll love him.

He’s like your dad.

Gabi stared at the text message, confusion flickering in his eyes.

He never told anyone about his parents, let alone his dad. He didn’t even have one in this universe, and he would much rather keep it that way than have his actual father here, looming over him and reminding him how he’ll never get into Formula One.

Only, he did. And he did it without any help, especially from the person who was supposed to support him the most.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

I don’t have a dad

The dots appeared, then disappeared, then appeared again. Gabi was debating deleting the message when Nico responded.

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

I’m sorry, I didn’t know.

That’s not what I meant.

I was talking about Alonso.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Fernando?

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

Yes, didn’t you see the article?

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

???

The next message from Nico was a link that led to an article from some British news outlet he’d never heard of titled ‘rookie Gabriel Bortoleto - the son Fernando Alonso claimed he’ll never have’.

He spent the rest of the car ride laughing as he read through a comparison of his driving style with Fernando’s, the impact they could have on each other’s careers, and the analysis of every public interaction they ever had.

Gabi forwarded it to Fernando with a few laughing emojis before closing his phone. He leaned back into the car seat, smiling to himself.

He was only 10 years older than him now, and people were still calling him his dad.

And to think he used to laugh at Kimi for the same happening to him with George and Max. The brief thought of asking Fernando who his second grid dad would be crossed his mind briefly.

The plane ride went surprisingly well, Gabriel supposed, Rubens being much kinder to him than he anticipated.

He shook his hand formally when they met, but there was more warmth than politeness in it. He explained to him and Nico about how the jet worked, clearly having quite a bit of knowledge about aircraft, and Gabi did his best to listen patiently. He could tell Nico had probably heard the explanation more than enough times by the way he was making jokes or comments that Gabi couldn’t help but chuckle at.

Despite having more than enough space on the jet, Nico invited Gabi to sit beside him, with Rubens in the aisle across from them.

The plane ride was around two hours, but felt like half that length. He made a surprising amount of conversation with the two other men and found himself genuinely enjoying the company.

At a certain point, Nico got a phone call and excused himself, speaking what he could only assume was German into the phone.

Giving him space, he turned to Rubens, speaking.

”So, what’s that movie you were going to see in Monaco?”

Rubens furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, not having any idea what Gabi was talking about. “What movie?”

Gabi leaned forward, trying to explain. “You know, the one you and Nico were going to watch. The reason you’re going to Monaco early.”

”We’re going early for pre-race upgrades testing,” Rubens countered, voice insistent but not harsh. “I don’t know about any movie. If you’re going to see one, I hope you enjoy it, though.”

Even though Gabi was absolutely sure that Nico told him he and Rubens were going together, he accepted it, opting to change the subject to something easier to speak about.

Turns out he had more in common with Rubens than he imagined. The 2010 grid had quite a lot of interesting drivers.

Gabriel wasn’t sure what made the idea of clearing up the misunderstanding with Nico so off-putting, so he blocked the thought to the back of his mind and focused on enjoying the rest of his time in Monaco.

Thankfully, the team remembered he was arriving early and got him a hotel room in time, which was absolutely beautiful.

He spent the first few days exploring the cities, meeting up with Nico and Rubens both separately and together as they enjoyed their time there. It almost felt like a vacation, especially when he and Nico actually went to see that screening.

Moreover, it was a live play, and a beautifully tragic one at that. Gabi had cried at least twice by the end of it, and one look at Nico’s face proved that he had done the same.

They spent the rest of that night at a high-end restaurant they found just a few blocks away from the theatre, eating as they discussed every point and plot of that film.

They even got into a little disagreement at some point, Gabi insisting that the female lead was right in her decision to end things off while Nico believed she was holding onto the past too much for her own good, but neither of them got heated over it.

Gabi found himself feeling a little warmer whenever Nico would crack a joke or smile at him, and the feeling was incredible.

By the time he’d gone back to his hotel, stomach full and on cloud nine, he was almost too tired to answer the phone call from his engineer.

”Hello?” He answered, voice a bit groggy but still clearly enthusiastic.

The tone of his voice must have surprised Amir, as he let out an amused hum before replying. “I take that you’re in a good mood?”

”Am,” Gabi confirmed, smiling to himself.

”Is Monaco really that good?”

”Yes, yes it is. There’s so many things to do, I spent the whole day out and didn’t even have time to go to half the places I wanted to.”

”Sounds about right,” Amir agreed, “I’ve only been to Monaco once, but I wish I had more time there. Maybe this time I’ll go out there a bit more. They have really good bars, you know. Lots of pretty ladies.”

Gabi just barely stopped himself from mentioning that he’s also been there before, but in a much different time.

“I hope so. I used to drive with someone from Monaco, he was probably one of the most beautiful people on this planet.”

Maybe he was a bit too used to how people talked about Charles to realise how this probably sounded, and Amir’s voice took a teasing edge to it when he replied.

”I think that says more about you than it does about him.”

Gabi wasn’t sure if he should take offence or laugh it off. It wouldn’t do any good to do anything but laugh; he knows very well how homosexuality is treated in Formula One, in any form of it. Especially between drivers. That’s why even Ralf Schumacher waited so long after he was done with motor sports before coming out, and it’s all because of comments like these.

Which, now that he thought about it, Ralf isn’t out yet. And he won’t be for another good fifteen years.

His tone sounded more serious than he planned when he replied, “Well, I’m bisexual, so I guess it does.”

There was a brief silence on the other side of the line, making Gabi immediately regret his words.

”Oh.” Amir eventually responded, “Good for you, then. Glad you feel comfortable sharing that with me. Twice the chance with Monegasques, then?”

And just as quickly as it came, the dreadfulness of the moment passed, and they fell back into easy conversation.

Gabi could only pray that he wouldn’t go ahead and go to the media with this, but it felt oddly nice to have the support of someone from the racing world. It’s the first time he came out to someone who wasn’t one of his close friends or his brother.

His last thought before they ended the phone call was checking if Nico would have a similar reaction.

The next few days in Monaco were filled with a mix of awe and excitement as he found his way through the country, visiting various locations from sunrise before going back to his hotel just after sunset.

It felt like everything was centered around the Formula One race about to happen. Streets were cleared, posters were hung, and any conversation in English he could pick up on was about the upcoming race.

He even made the mistake of going online a few times, wondering if he’d find any more articles about him.

Indeed, he found some, however, the harsh criticism presented wasn’t nearly as funny as the one calling him Fernando’s son.

However, he didn’t let that ruin his day. He focused on stopping by every shop he found, trying different restaurants with food he’s never even heard of, and taking pictures with eager fans. It warmed his heart to see so many people support him, especially when he was around other drivers.

When most of the grid had arrived already, he was walking with a few of the other rookies who had joined their bet. He had, in fact, won it, meaning each of them owed him lunch. At least he thinks that’s what the bet was; he didn’t completely understand it, but just the fact that a challenge was posed made him want to prove himself.

The group of them were walking along a street in Monte Carlo, checking every diner they passed by and voting on which to eat, when yet another fan walked up to them. Gabi glanced at Vitaly, nudging him with his elbow. “Think he’s looking for me?”

Vitaly rolled his eyes humorously. “I hope he isn’t, your ego is big enough as it is.”

They exchanged a chuckle before the fan, in fact, stopped short of him, large green eyes looking up at his brown ones. The boy spoke, “Uh, hi. Are you Gabriel Bortoleto?”

Gabi glanced back at the group next to him, flashing them a smirk before taking a step closer to the boy. He crouched down slightly to be at eye level, even if it wasn’t that necessary, as he looked around 13 years old.

”Yes, I am,” Gabi confirmed, “Why?”

The confirmation planted an excited smile on the boy’s face that made Gabi feel a warm sense of pride. “Can you sign this for me?” He asked, reaching for the bag slumped on his back and pulling something out. 

A small, red karting helmet.

He was getting the chance to make this boy’s dream come true. Let him race with the seal of approval of an F1 driver, one of the best in the world. He’d get to show off to all his opponents, being forced to stare at the back of his helmet behind him while everyone saw that signature.

Gabi was more than grateful that Sebastian advised him to carry around a marker for autographs.

“Of course,” He agreed, carefully taking the helmet. “Is this yours?”

”Uh-huh,” The boy said, eyes sparkling, “It’s my karting helmet. I really want to be in F1, like you. You’re my favourite rookie, did you know that? I hope you get to be in a Ferrari one day, like Fernando.”

After glancing at his friends shaking their heads in exasperation, he looked at the helmet, taking out his marker to sign it. “I hope so, too. What’s your name, so I know who to look out for when you’re old enough to join F1?”

The answer, “Charles Leclerc,” made him freeze completely and almost drop the pen.

The signature ended up a bit rough around the edges, but the boy, no, but Charles seemed just as ecstatic. He was looking up at Gabi with a kind of envy that made him nauseous.

This isn’t right. This isn’t okay. What the fuck was he doing here?

Charles ran off soon, after greeting and taking pictures with a few of the other drivers, his group filled with chatter that he couldn’t even begin to listen to.

He wanted to throw up. Is this some kind of side effect he wasn’t told about? Is it just guilt, made so much worse because it’s completely his fault? Is this a natural response of the universe to something like this, something that shouldn’t have happened, a meeting fated to end in disaster?

His legs moved, but his mind didn’t process it. He stared forward emptily, feeling his lungs close in on him.

He was only brought back to reality when he felt a tug on his arm, flinching as he turned to see Nico’s concerned face right in front of his.

They were so close he could almost feel Nico’s breath on his face. He stumbled backwards, feeling sick.

Nico let him, keeping a firm hold on his arm.

”Are you okay?” He asked after Gabi steadied himself. “You look pale.”

Gabi wasn’t even sure what to say. The last thing he needed was to tell someone else about this, to bother someone else with problems only he could fathom, so he shook his head. “I’m fine,” he insisted, but he convinced neither of them.

”Gabi, I’m serious,” Nico said, voice coming out a bit stern. Like whenever he let himself spiral and had Nico there, the Nico from 2025, to snap him out of it and get him to breathe when he couldn’t do it himself. “You wanna sit down somewhere?”

The others had already continued walking ahead, though some glanced back at him every few steps with concerned expressions. Nico probably told them to continue, he figured.

”I,” he started, but stopped himself. His shoulders slumped as he gave in. “Yes, I… yeah. I need to sit down.”

They backtracked to one of the diners they passed earlier, finding a quiet but cozy one to settle into. He sat down on one of the chairs while Nico went to bring them menus. He returned a few moments later, along with a cup of water, and set it down in front of Gabi.

He silently took the plastic cup, bringing it up to his lips and taking slow gulps.

When he finished the cup, Nico was still silent, which Gabi thought would help, but was only making his thoughts run wilder. So he spoke.

”This better not become a habit.”

Nico looked up from the menu, raising an eyebrow at him. “What? Eating?”

”This,” Gabi gestured at the cup of water, “You, uh… what’s it called, giving care.”

Nico continued staring at him dumbly for a few moments before it finally clicked, an amused expression taking over his face. “You don’t like it when I take care of you?”

”Don’t say it like that,” Gabi huffed, reaching out to tug the menu away from Nico’s hands. “I can do things for my own.”

”Sure, then. Order for both of us.”

Gabi only gave him a brief glance before doing just that, scanning the menu as if they hadn’t eaten more than a day’s worth of calories from treats and Monaco specials by that point.

When a waiter came over, Gabi ordered two cheeseburgers, giving specific details for one of them. He had eaten enough times with Nico to remember his specific food orders, this being one of them.

When the waiter left, Nico turned to him, questioning, “Why a burger?”

Gabi shrugged, “Felt like it.”

Nico rested his chin in his hand, seeming satisfied with that answer. “You know, I’ve never actually had a cheeseburger before.”

Gabi immediately perked up, eyebrows furrowed like that sentence personally offended him. “You haven’t?”

”No, not really,” Nico confirmed, “I just never really had the chance to.

They spent the rest of the time until the waiter returned with the food discussing the pros and cons of eating cheese between two buns of bread.

When the food finally arrived, Nico was hesitant to try it out, but as soon as the taste hit his tongue, he let out a moan of delight. Gabi almost choked.

”Oh my god,” Nico muttered between bites, “This is absolutely delicious.”

Gabi nodded, hiding his embarrassment behind his own cheeseburger. “I knew you’d like it.”

”I have to start listening to you more if you know what I like that well,” Nico joked, taking another bite. “Speaking of which, are there any good movies you’ve watched recently?”

Gabriel qualified P14.

Not nearly as good as Spain, but looking at his car, it was pretty good. Pedro was up at 11th, getting his spotlight with the team again. Gabi was perfectly happy with it, though.

He just hopes Pedro won’t slow him down in the race when he catches up to him.

Vitaly did end up buying him lunch after the session, having qualified P15 himself. They joked all throughout the meal, and Vitaly referred to them as friends once, securing it in Gabi’s mind.

Things were looking well for him as he entered the race, having attended another strategy meeting which was filled with his quiet complaints being retorted with a mix of dismissal and quiet chuckles from Amir.

Monaco was a long track filled with both straights and many corners, and none of them were absolutely certain how the car would take it.

The race was extremely underwhelming.

Not to say that Gabi didn’t enjoy it. Vitaly put up a good damn fight alright, and he went back and forth with Rubens for a good bit but just barely lost out on P13. He did everything he could, but the car wouldn’t let him go further.

He may have gotten a bit mad on the radio, but Fernando later defended him when critics spoke up about his ‘ungratefulness’.

Gabi was more than grateful for the chance he was given, and no random media spokesperson knew even a sliver of the hard work he had to put in just to have a shot at this. Not to mention the fact that he was living out his dream every day at work.

Just like Charles eventually will, with that signature on his helmet.

Gabi threw out all of his red clothes that day before setting out to buy new ones.

Rubens and Nico offered to come with him, which he gladly accepted, but Rubens seemed more interested in getting things for himself than finding ones for Gabi. Honestly, he couldn’t blame him. Nico, though, didn’t get many things for himself, mostly jumping around between Gabi and Rubens while they visited each store.

In one of them, Gabi was debating what fabric of pants felt the least uncomfortable with Nico giving his own grain of salt advice, when his phone rang again.

After checking it, he turned to Gabi with an apologetic smile. “Ah, sorry, I have to take this.”

Gabi nodded, watching Nico bring the phone up to his ear and step away. 

He just barely caught him mumbling, “Yes, I’m with a friend. The one with the cute hair I was telling you about.”

Gabi went inside one of the changing rooms and hid until his heart stopped drumming weird rhythms in his chest.

Chapter Text

Gabriel was planning on spending the few days after the Monaco Grand Prix exploring as much as he could manage of the city, still in awe at how much it’s changed since he was last there, but his plans were cut short when Peter summoned him to a meeting.

He had assumed it would be a team meeting to discuss the strategy for the next race in Turkey, but when he entered the large meeting room, he found it completely empty.

It felt off to see the room that was usually so lively with chatter suddenly so empty, and he had to admit it made him a bit nervous. 

Nonetheless, Gabi sat down, waiting patiently for Peter to come in.

He did so about ten minutes after, not uncharacteristic of the team principal, but what did catch Gabi’s attention was the woman following behind him.

Peter wasted no time sitting down, his tone pointed as he spoke. “You’ve been causing quite the stir in the media these past few weeks.”

“I am?” Gabi answered, even though he was well aware of it. Though, it wasn’t news to him. 

Back in Sauber, their marketing team knew he wouldn’t be there for long, but they wanted to uplift the team as much as possible. So they made him and Nico do all kinds of TikTok trends and memes just to get attention, and the fans absolutely loved it.

He knew that some of the people who saw those things didn’t exactly see his and Nico’s relationship as completely platonic, something they laughed about often. And, well, some of Nico’s jokes or actions didn’t exactly help lower the speculations.

But that’s all they were, just jokes. Something to take the piss out of something as unrealistic as them dating.

That’s how it felt back then, especially knowing Nico was nearly twice his age. But now that scenario didn’t feel nearly as distant from reality.

Gabi wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Or how Peter’s original statement even led him to thinking about Nico.

God, Nico is all he thinks about lately.

”Yes, you are,” Peter confirmed, exchanging glances with the woman who stood next to him. Gabi couldn’t quite recognise her but assumed she was a team member he just hadn’t noticed yet. “We’ve been sent a notice from Ferrari’s marketing team politely asking us to talk with your PR manager to tone things down.”

So that’s what it was about? Him and Fernando. He didn’t think two drivers being friends would cause this much of a stir, let alone from Ferrari. Did Ferrari fans even know he existed? With so many drivers on the grid, he doubted it.

”Well, I don’t have a PR manager,” He said instead, unsure where Peter was going with this.

”I know. Normally, we like letting drivers pick their own staff, but since we’re working with Ferrari’s timeline here, I made some arrangements for you.” Peter gestured to the woman at his side. “Since this is your first time working with a public relations team, I thought it would be good to bring you someone who-“

”I can introduce myself, thank you very much.” She cut him off, tone stern. Now that he got a good look at her, she looked much more uptight than most of the Sauber paddock. Not to say they were unprofessional, not at all, but at best she looked like a school teacher scolding a student rather than someone talking to their boss.

”My name is Sophia,” She explained, “Former PR manager of Sebastian Vettel, and soon yours. I’ve been in the industry for five years now, so I’m sure I can be a lot of help to you. Sauber seems to think so, too.”

So they sent her to clean up his mess. Well, he wouldn’t exactly call it a mess, nor his doing that caused it. Were there really that many people who cared about his relation to Fernando that Ferrari had to intervene?

He sure hoped not, anyway, more for Fernando’s sake than his own.

He offered her a polite smile, trying to seem more confident than he felt. “I’m Gabriel,” Was all he managed to say before Sophia sat down in front of him and pulled out a stack of papers from her bag.

”I know,” She deadpanned. “Try to be a bit more sure of yourself, we have a lot of work to get done.”

Gabriel ended up drafting a statement with Sophie, a staged interview with a pre-written script about his home life. It made him increasingly uncomfortable to stack lies up like that, lying to the media about one thing while lying to the team about the other, yet he had little choice if he didn’t want to cause the Sauber brand trouble.

All he needed to do was talk a bit about his parents and childhood, and when the interviewer asked him about role models, to not mention Fernando.

Essentially, make sure that Google presents information about anyone other than Fernando when someone searches Gabi’s parents up.

It’s not like he didn’t have parents. Or, in this timeline, he supposed he didn’t. He had a family but it was as good as dead at this point, for better or for worse.

He wasn’t close to anyone other than his brother, either, so there was less grieving than he thought would happen.

A part of him hoped that maybe, just maybe, if he becomes a world champion in this timeline, his brother would get to become a racing driver too, and not have to sacrifice his dream for Gabi.

That was one more unnecessary thought he tried to avoid tossed to the overflowing pile in the back of his mind.

He had Turkey coming up to focus on, anyway.

He spent a surprisingly bearable session on the sim with Pedro watching him, critiquing him in what he probably considered as ‘helpful advice’. Gabi found himself actually taking some of the notes to heart, though.

Pedro was a good driver, and Gabi should be grateful for any help he can get. Especially now that things with Fernando were a little weird.

He should probably check up on him, just to see how things were over at Ferrari.

After receiving his hotel keys once he landed in Turkey, he did just that.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Hey

Peter said Ferrari is mad about that article I sent you

Are you also?

He didn’t get a response. Instead, his phone flashed with Fernando’s number calling him.

”Yes, I’m mad,” Was the first thing Fernando said when Gabi picked up, “Not at you. Never at you. It’s Ferrari giving me shit again, like me dealing with their car isn’t giving me enough problems. Now they have to get in my personal life, too. What, are they going to make me get divorced now if their engines keep fucking me up?”

Gabi jerked the phone away from his ear, flinching at the harsh yelling. He was more than grateful it wasn’t directed at him, to say the least.

”Sauber isn’t much better. They want me to make some interview about my parents with a script they wrote. It’s basically lying to the public.”

That earned something between a groan and a laugh from Fernando. “That’s all they care about now, interviews and reputation. Part time racing drivers, full time politicians.”

Gabi chuckled at that. “Wait until they make you start doing TikTok trends every day.”

”Do what?”

He cleared his throat. “Uh, signal’s bad. Can’t understand what you’re saying.”

Fernando sighed. “Same here. Call me back later, okay?”

Gabi was more than willing to end the call, running back to the safety of burying his face into a hotel pillow and trying to calm down the stress in his head.

He’s fine. It wasn’t a big deal. Fernando probably doesn’t even remember it.

He wished he could scroll on TikTok right now to distract himself. Having nothing to waste your time on felt… weird. How did anyone used to live like this?

Hell, how did he used to live before it? How was he going to now?

This was exhausting. He just wanted to sleep.

Sleeping in, apparently, was a very bad decision, as he nearly missed FP1 after neglecting to set up an alarm.

And thus, he did pretty horribly, which Sophia didn’t look pleased about at all.

She was in the middle of lecturing him about it in the cool-down room when he noticed Nico from the corner of his eye, quickly waving him over. He was glad for the distraction, and even more glad to see that handsome face.

Did Nico usually look this good?

“Hey, Gabi,” Nico greeted once he spotted him, returning the smile as he approached them. His eyes landed on Sophia next, cocking an eyebrow. “Who’s that? Your girlfriend?”

Gabi nearly choked. “No, no! Not at all. That’s- Nico, she’s my PR manager,” He quickly clarified, waving his hands as he spoke. 

He watched Nico’s expression go from confusion to amusement to fondness. “No need to proper freak out about it, mate,” He teased.

Sophie glanced between them in dissatisfaction, excusing herself from the conversation before turning to leave.

“I wasn’t freaking out,” Gabi defended himself. “It’s just…” Actually, he wasn’t sure what felt so wrong about that statement. Sophia quite a few years older than him, but that never bothered him in a partner. She’s quite mean sometimes, so maybe that’s it? But it’s not like him at all to be so adamant about not being with someone. He hoped she didn’t feel insulted or something.

Did he just want Nico to know he was single?

He allowed himself to consider that just for a moment before shoving that thought into a box and locking it for the key to never be seen again.

“She’s just really old. Like, really old.”

”Is she?” Nico glanced back at Sophia, who had now spotted and began chatting with Sebastian. “She looks my age.”

”She’s like thirty, I think,” Gabi corrected, pulling the number completely out of his ass. Hopefully that didn’t sound too unbelievable. “Ten years is a lot, you know.”

Nico smirked lightly. “It’s probably worse of a look for her. Just imagine dating someone over ten years younger than you. That’s like, you and Alonso.”

Gabi nearly gagged, “Sweet home Alabama, much,”

He really needs to get his act together. As much as he liked Nico’s face, it didn’t look nearly as pretty when he was staring at Gabi like he was braindead.

Qualifying went a little better, putting in a good lap time for Q1 and just narrowly missing out on Q3 in the end. P12 was more than Gabriel could ask for, especially with how the car was in the last few races.

”New engine compartment,” Amir explained to him over the radio, “I can show you the blueprints later. Helps accelerate faster.”

“Sounds good,” He accepted, feeling a little proud of himself for doing his best to help the engineering team with the knowledge he has.

He’s not nearly as skilled in it as a car mechanic with a PHD, but any good driver learns they need to understand how the car functions to make the most of it. These cars were much different than the 2025 ones, or any he’d driven in the lower Formulas, but he found himself growing more and more comfortable with them every sim session or practice.

The lack of stress over DRS helped him plenty, too.

He dropped feedback here and there and made suggestions wherever he could without mentioning too much technology that hadn’t been introduced yet, doing his part as a team member. All while Pedro sat back and watched like Gabi was a dog trying to open a dog.

That did make him wonder, though, “What position is Pedro?”

A few moments passed of Amir probably checking with the team before he answered, “P15, a bit behind you.”

Needless to say, he didn’t stop smiling for the rest of that day.

The interview was scheduled the day of the race, probably to get higher coverage, just mere hours before Gabriel goes on track. He initially suggested to do it after the race, but Sophia didn’t want whatever result he got to affect him.

Gabi argued that the interview would make more sense if they did it after he got a good result, but apparently he was too inexperienced to understand why that was a bad idea. Bullshit.

He was standing around the paddock, seemingly for no purpose, when a kind looking man he’d been previously told was named Barack spotted him, as if by accident, and shoved a microphone in his face.

In his eyes, it all looked very unnatural, but he doubted Sophia would care much.

”Excuse me, Gabriel Bortoleto? Do you have a minute?”

”Yes, of course,” He replied, fixing his posture when he noticed the camera behind the man, trying not to stare at it.

”Your performance on track has greatly improved the past few races, and fans all over the world are wanting to know what triggered this sudden change. Is there anything you can point to that caused it?”

“It’s just training and hard work,” Gabi explained, doing his best to stick to the script he neglected to fully memorize. “Whenever I’m in a difficult position in a race, I think back to my parents, and what they would have told me to do if they were still here.”

Quit, they would have told him to quit. Or at least to deal with it himself. But that microphone didn’t have the right to know that.

”I see,” Barack nodded thoughtfully as if coming up with another question. “I take it your parents supported your early racing career?”

The interview continued for about twenty minutes, with Gabi mostly reusing the same sentences phrased differently with increasing theatrics. It felt wrong to speak about his parents like some guardian angels when they weren’t the ones who raised him at all, but he managed to bear through it.

He drank two and a half liters of water before the race, like that could wash his mouth clean of the bullshit he just spouted.

“Radio check?”

“Clear,” Gabi responded, turning the wheel sharply as he made a turn through the first corner.

One position gained. He smirked faintly.

”Gabi? Can you hear me?”

”Yes, I can,” He reiterated, confused. He didn’t have time to focus on any radio issues, he could probably go a race without it if push comes to shove.

He shouldn’t say that, though. He does need the team backing him up, at least if he wants a good result like he’s aiming for now.

A faint hum of static burnt through the radio before his engineer’s voice returned.

”I think there’s an issue with the speakers. Pedro has one too; we’re checking why that is. I’m switching parts out, so keep talking until I hear you, okay?”

Gabi barely resisted rolling his eyes. So now he has to be both radio control and a racing driver at the same time?

”I’m kind of busy,” He huffed into the microphone while attempting another overtake, sadly unsuccessful.

He wasn’t about to give up though.

Heading into the 7th corner, he had a good chance to cut past the Force India ahead if he got enough momentum down the inside.

The radio was still making noises, irking his focus a bit, which made the move feel all the more threatening.

“Gabi? Checking, can you hear me?”

“Yes, yes, I can hear you,” He answered one time too many, feeling a bit irritated.

Now wasn’t the time for this. He had to calm down.

The lack of a response told him that he was going to have to make the rest of the decisions by himself, which included making the overtake as the corner approached.

He took a deep breath, bracing himself as he sent it down the inside as hard as he could.

He kept going with that strategy, managing one more overtake before the radio sprang back to life.

”Should be all good now, really sorry for that. Did pretty well for yourself, though.”

Gabi did his best to focus on the road again, continuing to pick up speed. “What’s the position?”

”P9,” He replied, “Alonso ahead.”

”Fernando? In P8?”

”Penalty,” He explained. “Want to send him back to P9?”

Gabi grinned. “Absolutely.”

Gabriel did not, unsurprisingly, manage to make it to P8, but he was more than happy with securing points after the race.

That also meant he had more post-race interviews, which, while he usually felt pretty bummed out about, he found himself more pleased at when Nico waved him over to sit next to him.

“Good race, eh?” Nico greeted him, dapping him up before making space for Gabi next to him.

Nico’s hand was warm.

”Not really, no,” Gabi huffed a laugh as he sat down, “They installed some new upgrades, didn’t have radio for, like, half the race. No idea how I even managed P9.”

”Talent, probably,” Nico offered, which Gabi wasn’t sure was a joke. He laughed anyway, giving his shoulder a slight shove.

”Flirt.”

”Compared to you? Barely,” He shot back, matching Gabi’s grin.

They were only snapped back to reality when the interview started and they had to focus on the spokesperson again.

Gabi leaned back on the couch, head resting back on his arms, watching the interviewers speak with the other drivers. Media duties were so annoying. He could be sim racing right now, going over strategy, working out, anything that didn’t involve zoning out in a chair, really.

Thank god for Nico being there to lighten the mood.

At one point, one of the reporters was hurling questions at Lewis Hamilton after winning his first Grand Prix of the season, and Nico leaned into Gabi’s side, whispering, “Is he aware he’s talking to a world champion?” Making him almost burst out laughing.

Then, when one of the reporters started reprimanding Jenson Button for not being competitive enough with his teammate, Gabi put his hand over his mouth and muttered, “If this is how the press talks to world champions, I’ll probably stop showing my face in public after I win mine.”

The banter continued, with small comments or chuckles exchanged here and there, until a question was targeted at Gabi.

”And Bortoleto, you were doing very good on track today until you reached and seemingly got stuck behind Alonso for the rest of the race. You two seem to have a very close relationship, could it have affected your performance on track?”

Of course they only care about him when something doesn’t go his way.

Gabi was about to bring the microphone to his lips, probably spout some dismissive response, when Nico nudged him with his foot. He glanced sideways at him, smirking.

”Well, I’m pretty close with Nico, and you don’t see me failing to pass him, so I don’t think it has anything to do with that.”

A few snickers spread around the room, Nico Rosberg glancing over from where he sat next to Lewis and sending him an approving nod, followed by one from Fernando. He was feeling proud of himself until Nico reached over and squeezed his thigh.

The gesture barely lasted for over a second, but it was like the entire earth froze in that moment.

Nico’s hand. That large, warm hand, on him. Making him go stiff in his seat.

That feeling came back up again, whatever it was that made him suddenly feel both cold and overheating at the same time. Like he needed to push Nico away but wanted to pull him closer so badly.

Whatever the fuck this was, he needed it to stop.

And he wanted to cling onto it until it was the only thing he could feel.

He adjusted his shirt, fixed his gaze on the camera, giving a forced laugh when Nico leaned closer again to deliver another snarky comment to him. Nico’s hand was on the padding between their bodies. His breath was on his ear.

And then it wasn’t.

And he was cold again.

[ ~ Bruno Senna ]

I miss Monaco already.

[ ~ Vitaly Petrov ]

Same

Turkey wasn’t all bad though

At least there was space to overtake

[ ~ Bruno Senna ]

I don’t mean the race.

Had a lot of fun there, just spending time away from the track

[ ~ Karun Chandhok ]

Me too, actually

We should meet up more

[ ~ Sebastien Buemi ]

True

[ ~ Lucas Di Grassi ]

Good point

[ ~ Vitaly Petrov ]

That’s what I set the groupchat up for??

You’re taking away my credit :/

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

I’m sure you’ll be fine with a little less thunder

[ ~ Vitaly Petrov ]

Go crash into a wall

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

Petrov, calm down.

[ ~ Vitaly Petrov ]

Defending the boyfriend again, I see

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Shut up

And thanks, Nico

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ] 

Anytime.

[ ~ Karun Chandhok ]

Get a room.

[ ~ Bruno Senna ]

It was only a joke, at least I hope it was.

This kind of talk is part of racing.

We should start getting used to it rather than avoiding it.

[ ~ Vitaly Petrov ]

See?

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

Well, I don’t see why we should endorse that kind of talk anyway.

I get the heat of the moment, but this was completely uncalled for.

[ ~ Bruno Senna ]

I didn’t say we should endorse it, but it’s a part of racing.

We’re joining Formula One, not the other way.

We should be getting accustomed to what’s normal.

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

And who decided that this was normal?

[ ~ Bruno Senna ]

Ayrton Senna and Alain Prost.

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

And what makes you an expert on what Senna and Prost said about each other?

[ ~ Bruno Senna ]

Check my contact information, mate.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Holy shit

Senna had kids?

 [~ Bruno Senna ]

Nephews, yes.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

I didn’t think I’d ever get to meet his family

Or race with them, that is

He’s been my idol since childhood

[ ~ Bruno Senna ]

I’m glad a driver like you is honouring him, then.

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ] 

Can you slow down with the texts?

My phone is exploding with notifications.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Then turn it off.

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

1. message deleted.

Alright.

Gabriel knew better than to have high hopes for the race in Canada, but he didn’t expect to bottle it this bad in practice.

Sure, he’d much rather have an engine failure during both free practices than in qualifying or the race itself, but it didn’t make him any less disappointed. The track was discontinued before the 2025 season, too, meaning this was the first time he ever got to try it out, and almost every rookie got a better result than him.

This wasn’t fair. He’s been doing so well this far, why did the car have to start acting up now?

He knew he should give himself a break, maybe go over some paperwork with Sophie if he really felt energized, but he found himself storming off to the simulator rooms as soon as he was out of his race suit.

It didn’t help that the sim was much, much less accurate than the 2025 one he was still used to. It felt wrong, too easy when compared to the actual practice he just had. And the lack of an engineer to give him instructions wasn’t helping much, either.

He wasn’t sure how long he spent racing on the sim, or at least trying to after his brain stopped processing the cars around him and moved on muscle memory rather than instinct.

He tried to focus, he really did, but his eyes would part and get distracted as the car continued forward.

By the time he stumbled out of the sim, it was already dark outside, and he was absolutely exhausted. Not a good sign for qualifying tomorrow, he noted.

He was sure he’d be the last one at the paddock, maybe with the exception of a few team personnel packing things up, but he spotted Pedro speaking with a few engineers when he went into the main hall. He must have looked a bit roughed up, as all heads immediately turned to him when he stepped out.

Pedro turned towards him, too, making Gabi wince. And here he thought he could just sneak off and pray not to get noticed.

”Bortoleto,” Pedro addressed him, tone as formal as a greeting. “Hulkenberg came by earlier to look for you.”

Gabi blinked. “Nico’s here?”

”He was,” Pedro confirmed, though it sounded more like a dismissal. “I sent him to wait outside.”

”Why? He can just wait here. You could have told me.”

He wasn’t sure if Pedro was being kind or condescending, but the latter seemed more likely. This man never failed to confuse him. It’s not like drivers aren’t allowed to visit each other’s paddocks. Max often went out to visit him and Kimi and no one batted an eye. Fernando, did, too. Was it something reserved just for world champions?

The answer, as always, caught him completely off guard. “I didn’t want to disturb you. I hope you’d rather train to minimize your mistakes rather than speak with other drivers, too.”

Pedro really didn’t know him at all, did he? Like there was anything Gabi preferred doing over spending time with Nico.

He thanked him passive aggressively before heading outside the paddock, briefly stopping at his driver’s room to grab his things.

His phone had two missed calls and a few text messages. Unfortunately, very characteristic of Nico.

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

Hey.

Tough practice for both of us, huh?

We’ll do better tomorrow.

Do you want to grab lunch? I still have that bet to repay you for, you know.

He typed a response as he walked outside.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Sorryyyy

I was on the sim and didn’t have my phone with me

Pedro was being an ass

But he always is :/

A few minutes passed of him staring at the screen of his phone before he reminded himself Nico probably had much better things to do than text him.

He glanced up, blinking at the dark sky contrasting the light from his phone.

Right. He should get to his hotel.

The next morning Gabi arrived at the paddock two hours earlier than he usually would have, immediately walking towards the Williams hospitality area instead of Sauber’s.

Nico was all he could think about the entire night before. He knew it was wrong, Nico had no business holding him up from sleep, but he couldn’t help it. Just the fact that he actually went there, tried to check up on him when he didn’t answer his texts, how Nico would have probably dragged him off the sim and into his arms made him feel giddy all over.

He tried not to smile too widely as he strolled inside the paddock, seeing people dressed in blue look him over with raised eyebrows. He was clearly an outsider, but he would never feel like one around Nico.

Nico was way too caring for that to happen. He would probably glare away any team member who so much as looked at Gabi the wrong way.

He was really looking forward to seeing him.

Unfortunately, the search proved unsuccessful, and after searching around without stepping into any rooms he reached a conclusion he should have probably seen coming much earlier.

Nico didn’t know he was here, and thus would have no reason to arrive this early.

Gabi just made a huge fool of himself based on determination alone.

The realization should have come much sooner, Gabi realized what felt like years too late, and he was about to make a u-turn and leave when he heard someone call out to him. It wasn’t Nico, no, he would have recognized that immediately.

He turned, seeing the warm smile of Rubens as he walked up to him. “Gabriel? What are you doing here?”

The question wasn’t accusatory, yet Gabi couldn’t help but feel like it was. He chuckled sheepishly, trying to explain himself.

”Oh, uh, hi. I was… uh, I was looking for Nico, but I think he isn’t here. I should have probably called him first, to check.”

Instead of looking at him weird, Rubens laughed, either from mockery or amusement; Gabi wasn’t sure. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, waiting for Rubens to continue.

”I don’t think he’s here yet, no. But you’re welcome to wait for him.” Rubens paused, nodding towards a door on the far side of the paddock. “That’s his room, I believe he leaves it unlocked.”

He followed Rubens’s gaze to the door, a simple white one at the end of the light blue wall with a matching one a few feet away.

“Uh, thank you.”

”Don’t mention it.” Rubens said, turning to continue his walk. “I can trust you with it, right? You’re a good kid.”

”Of course, don’t worry about it,” Gabi quickly reassured, now turned away from Rubens, but still close enough to catch his last words before he left for another room.

”He likes you a lot, you know.”

Gabi wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

But he was absolutely certain that he shouldn’t be smiling this widely over it.

“Did your parents used to support your racing career?”

Nico’s tone didn’t sound any more serious than when he and Gabriel first arrived at the small restaurant they chose for dinner, nor when they started to delve into talk after ordering food. Most of their conversations lately sounded like that.

Just Gabi talking and Nico listening. And when Gabi ran out of things to say, Nico would chime in, and offer insight or jokes that made Gabi both nervous and excited at the same time.

He wasn’t sure when they’d gotten to the topic of family. They hadn’t, really. Maybe Nico said something about his parents and then asked about Gabi’s, he couldn’t exactly remember.

It was a problem he really needed to get ahead of. But he just couldn’t help getting lost in that passionate look Nico wore whenever he talked about something he clearly cared about, like his performance in the latest race, something about his childhood, or a recap of the latest movie he watched.

But now Gabi had to snap back to reality and talk about his parents.

Sophie had prepared him for this type of questions, sure, but the word 'orphan' felt foreign on his tongue. Even when he did have parents, they sent him off to race like it was cleaning a burden off their hands. They weren’t there for the highs or the lows, so he was used to the absence.

But the lack of them entirely felt different.

He knew exactly which words to say and how to sugarcoat the story for some media or outlets, but when he looked at Nico’s patient eyes awaiting a response, he couldn’t bring himself to do that.

So eventually he settled on, ”I guess. They didn’t really care, I think. I had to get sponsors to fund my karting by myself, and my brother used to drive me to practice and train with me.”

”You have a brother?”

The question made him smile a bit, even if bittersweetly. Enzo, his brother, was one of the people he knew he’d miss the most, even if he didn’t let himself think about it much.

Enzo gave up his racing career to support Gabi’s. He did everything to help him get to this point, from driving him to karting competitions as a child all the way to helping him prepare for the very mission he was currently on.

”Yeah, I did,” He ended up muttering, only to see Nico frown.

Did he say something wrong? Did Nico have a problem with Enzo? He couldn’t see why. Nico himself had a sister, after all. So why would this bother him?

”Oh.” He ended up muttering, fixing his posture a bit. “I’m sorry, I should have figured. You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to. I’m… sorry for your loss.”

Right. It was just the sympathy.

”It’s okay,” Gabi insisted, trying to play it off like he wasn’t on the verge of getting emotional. He leaned back on the couch, making a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Don’t get sad on me, come on. If anyone should be depressed today, it’s me after qualifying.”

That got Nico to crack a little smile. “Alright, alright. But, if you ever need to talk, I’m here for you. And hey, if you get lonely during the off-season, you’re always welcome to come visit my family in Germany for Christmas.”

Gabi almost choked. “Your- what?”

”It’s not like you have to, but, you know, just an offer. I hear the break gets boring after a while, especially if you spend most of it alone.”

”That- That’s not,” Gabi started, before cutting himself off. That wasn’t the weird part of it. Or, well, the part that made him stutter like some nervous wreck.

Fuck, why was Nico smiling at him like that? He feels so pathetic, he can’t even form a straight sentence anymore.

”I appreciate the offer, yes, but I- you can’t just invite me to visit your family. What am I, your girlfriend?” He stresses, trying to put some humour into the sentence to save his ass.

Nico’s expression doesn’t change. Instead, he just chuckles softly. “Well, in that case, you’d be my boyfriend.”

Gabi swore his face was on fire. But, fuck, he wanted to hear Nico call him his boyfriend again. Over and over.

He stared at him, at a complete loss for words, having to recompose. He tried to think of anything he could say that wasn’t what was going through his mind right now and spreading heat in his chest.

”And they, uh, your parents, would be fine with you bringing a boyfriend home?”

Something flickered in Nico’s expression that Gabi couldn’t quite catch. He paused for a moment, almost hesitating, but spoke after just a few seconds.

”Well, they know that’s an option for me, so yeah, they would.”

“How’s the car feeling?”

”Better than yesterday,” Was Gabriel’s sarcastic reply, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel.

Qualifying, thankfully, didn’t come with an engine failure, however, he struggled to set a good lap time and ended up P15. He would usually be much harsher on himself over this, but Pedro was all the way back in P18, so he absolutely blamed it on the car.

Even if there was little chance of points today, at least he’ll do his best to get ahead as much as possible.

”You remember the strategy, right?” Amir checked, making Gabi bite the inside of his cheek.

”Yes, I do,” He confirmed, “Drive fast.”

”That’s the spirit.”

Before Gabi had time to reply to the sarcasm, the lights were turning on, and then went out. He pressed his foot on the gas as hard as he could, trying to squeeze in a gap between two other cars as the first corner arrived.

He turned, still wiggling through the gap between the two other cars, trying to overtake.

Then one of them turned into him.

It took him a few seconds to register the fact that he was driven off-track. He had no idea how much damage was done to the car but a quick once-over told him the track was fairly clean.

Before he could lose any more positions, he pushed through back onto the track and kept driving.

”Gabi? Are you okay? Can you hear me?” Amir checked, the radio sounding a bit muffled, but he confirmed.

”I’m okay. How much damage? Do I retire?”

”Checking for you. Pit as soon as you can.”

“Got it.”

The damage wasn’t too bad in terms of the race, as it turned out. The right side of his front wing had torn off and one of his tyres was punctured from it, but nothing that couldn’t be replaced within a few seconds.

And just like that, he was back out on the track in P19.

He spent a few laps catching up to Pedro, who was, unsurprisingly, blocking him from making any further progress.

After trying to squeeze past a few times and Pedro defending aggressively, he spoke to the radio again.

”Can we switch? Give me a chance to get more positions.”

”Are you sure about this? Your overtaking game is great, but Pedro is the more experienced driver.”

”I’m sure.”

”I’ll ask his engineer, then.”

A few moments passed with the noticeable lack of a voice, Gabi still being right up the back of Pedro’s car. Eventually, Amir spoke again, his voice strangely entertained.

”We talked to Pedro. He said a few things I should probably not repeat to you, but in short, not right now.”

Gabi frowned. Great, so now his teammate was trash-talking him to his engineer.

”That’s unfair,” He scoffed, the sight of the Sauber in front of him not helping.

”If we let you pass, that’s unfair to him, though,” Amir countered, tone much too nonchalant for Gabi’s liking. “It’s how racing is. Next time, hopefully you’ll have better luck and avoid that crash.”

”Luck is not a strategy.”

Max had preached that to him over and over again throughout his first year in F1, something which, in a Kick Sauber, he had grown accustomed to very quickly. And here was no different.

”Come on, give Pedro a chance.”

”Amir, I-”

“Gabi. Please.”

”Fine.”

The rest of the race continued exactly the same, Pedro only managing one overtake, which Gabi easily mirrored. It felt like doing a race behind the safety car, constantly needing to defend without being able to overtake.

It was just his own fault for messing up qualifying, though.

Gabriel almost threw his helmet on the ground as soon as he was out of the car, fuming. He couldn’t believe how badly the race went after the new upgrades.

The crash wasn’t his fault. Yet, somehow, both the cars involved got a penalty, making him finish P21 with Pedro up in P18.

If they’d switched like he asked, he could have at least gotten closer to points, even if it sounded impossible.

He went here to get a better chance at a championship, so why is he being held back all the same?

This was so unfair. All of it.

He took harsh steps as he made his way to the cool-down room, intending to fine Amir and make his case to him. Maybe even discuss a few things with the lead strategist, or, fuck it, argue with Pedro himself.

He isn’t letting this team throw away his potential.

He would have probably gone all the way to Peter, too, if it wasn’t for someone grabbing his shoulder and pulling him back.

”Hey, ignoring me?”

Gabi blinked at Vitaly’s confused smile, taking a moment to register that he was being spoken to.

”Ah, no, sorry,” He quickly dismissed, turning to face the other man properly. “Didn’t see you. I was going to talk to the team about the race.”

”Figured as much, didn’t expect not to see you in the top half of the grid for a while.” Vitaly joked, even if Gabi didn’t find much humour in that.

”Good race for you, though, I hope?” He tried instead.

Vitaly’s face immediately lit up, “Absolutely. P6, mate. Best result yet. Even outqualified Kubica, though he seemed pretty bummed about it.”

”Don’t blame him, though. I’d be pretty upset too if my rookie teammate outscored me that much.”

”Yeah, well, not when the rookie’s Gabriel Bortoleto. What’s your rate against Rosa, anyway?”

Now that he thought about it, he really hadn’t compared their statistics much yet. Maybe it was because Pedro tended to discourage him from comparing them, despite always acting so condescending, but he was a little scared of the disappointment that would come if he did.

That he would see just how much worse he really was than Pedro.

”I don’t know,” He shrugged honestly. “Probably not that good, though.”

”Don’t say that. Better to be stuck with a knowledgeable teammate than another rookie, though. Just look at these two, lovebirds off track and can’t stop trying to murder each other on it.”

While saying that, Vitaly nodded to the other side of the room, where the two HRT Cosworth drivers sat on one of the couches, laughing. Bruno was laughing at something while Karun downed half a litre of water before tossing the bottle for Bruno to finish.

A small shiver ran down Gabi’s spine at the thought that the water bottle Nico gave him all those races ago might have touched his lips, too.

Vitaly snapped him out of it by adding, “Like you and Nico.”

Gabi immediately frowned. He didn’t like that this guy could read into his mind like that. “More like you and Kubica.”

“Absolutely not,” Vitaly grimaced, “I think he hates me, anyway. Won’t give me advice on stuff, just says ‘drive fast’ and ‘stop trying to be like me’. Like he thinks he’s better than me.”

”Isn’t he?” Gabi joked, earning his shoulder a shove.

”Easy for you to say, you have your world-class mentor.”

”I wouldn’t call Pedro world-class, or a mentor, actually. He’s, you know,” He paused to glance around the room before continuing, “I think he also kind of hates me. Keeps telling me how to do things, like it’s my first time in a car. I get that he’s trying to help, but it doesn’t sound like it either. It’s not even advice, he just tells me not to dream big. That’s what being in F1 is about.”

Vitaly stared at him once the rant was over, holding back laughter. “I was talking about Alonso. But good to know, I guess.”

To get rid of the bit of flush forming in his cheeks, Gabi pushed Vitaly away and continued to walk, listening to him laughing behind him as he stormed off. 

Yet, the more he walked, the more the exhaustion from the race started to dawn on him. He was planning to go and let all his energy out by shouting at some stupid team member who messed up his race, but he didn’t have any of said energy to burn.

He felt his steps slowing down as he approached the other side of the room, body heavy as he looked around for somewhere to sit down.

When he reached one of the sofas, this one having Fernando and Mark chatting on it, he nearly collapsed into the couch out of exhaustion.

Instead, he was stopped mid-way by Fernando grabbing his arm.

”Are you good?”

Instead of replying, Gabi shook his head. And, fortunately, Fernando was more than willing to continue his conversation with Gabi curled up against his side like a cat hugging its mom.

Mark looked admittedly annoyed but said nothing, which Gabi could only assume was because of Fernando’s glares. He smiled silently at the thought.

Apparently, Vitaly’s P6 was a much bigger deal than Gabriel had anticipated, even though he was more than proud of him for it.

Much like him, Vitaly’s strength was in overtaking, and he performed a few moves that he wished he could thoroughly dissect.

Which, if the text Vitaly sent in the rookie’s group chat about celebrating the result in the Renault hotel meant anything, he might be able to.

He couldn’t recall any of his or Pedro’s results being celebrated that way, but maybe that’s because they haven’t pushed the car far enough yet. Sometimes the Sauber team principal would take him and Nico, as well as some important figures in the garage, out for drinks, but it was kept small and personal. Nico’s podium had earned a massive party, however, so it might be more common than he thought.

He was still proud of that podium finish today, if he had to admit it. It almost pained him to know how long this Nico was going to have to wait to reach that.

Though, if Fernando could win at Spain when he definitely shouldn’t have, what’s to say Nico can’t improve with Gabi’s help?

He tried to carry the positivity of that thought as he put on a fancy-looking button-up and a pair of white jeans before setting out to the party.

It was the same day of the race, so he only had time to grab a to-go from a nearby pastry shop between going to his hotel and leaving for the party, which turned out to be a terrible idea when compared to how many drinks he had.

It wasn’t his fault, though. The moment he walked into the hotel, which looked more like a small ballroom in Gabi’s opinion, Vitaly was there and shoving cups of burning liquor in his face. He probably should have declined, but a few drinks never hurt anyone, right?

Neither did a couple more. Just to keep the party going.

He had to admit, too, Gabi was quite enjoying himself. There were tables with snacks he occasionally hung around when he got tired of dancing, only to get grabbed by one of the rookies or some worker he barely recognised and got back around where the music was loudest.

Usually, he wouldn’t want himself to get this carried away around people who were supposed to be his coworkers, but by the looks of it, he might have been the least hammered person in that entire building. So fuck it, why not make the most of the night?

He, Vitaly, Lucas and Sebastien took turns giving each other dares like a bunch of high schoolers messing around during prom, only stopping when a mechanic started yelling at Sebastien when he realised he’d stolen his coat off his shoulders.

Obviously, Vitaly couldn’t hang around them for too long, so soon it was only him and the other two. Gabi doesn’t remember how their conversation got to that point, but Lucas turned out to be a pretty honest drunk and started complaining about never doing well with women in crowded places like these, which in turn caused Gabi and Sebastien to dedicate half an hour to finding him a date.

Halfway through trying terrible pick-up lines and getting cups of whatever colour wine he couldn’t see due to the flashing lights thrown at him, Gabi actually managed to get some girl to laugh at one of those terrible jokes, and she dragged him away from the group and into the makeshift dance floor.

Gabi isn’t sure how long they spent there, probably not long, as he could still remember the order of the songs that played at the time - ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’, ‘FVN’, ‘Mr. Brightside’, and one more that he couldn’t recognise but vaguely sounded like Queen. That and the girl’s name, Robin, was pretty much all he could remember, except for the fact that every time his hands found her waist, he wished it was Nico.

Maybe his emotions were running high due to the music, or perhaps he really did just have too many drinks, or it could have been a different reason entirely, but he started laughing and tearing up midway through the last song.

It took until he felt Robin’s hands cup his cheeks and draw him in, a pair of lips pressing into the corner of his mouth, before he realised that Nico played this song to him once. He said it was his favourite. Bohemian Rhapsody.

Gabi barely realised that the girl took his sudden halt of movement as an invitation to kiss him, only snapping out of it when he felt a pair of lips graze his, and he quickly pushed her off.

He felt like the world was spinning. What was he doing here? When did he start crying? Why did they have to put on that damn song? And most importantly, why did he keep thinking of Nico when he was dancing with someone else?

When he was being kissed by someone else?

Robin seemed to laugh it off and continued dancing like nothing happened, but Gabi felt sick.

He needed to sit down. This wasn’t right. She didn’t deserve to be ditched over trying to be nice to him, but Gabi couldn’t take this anymore.

He pushed his way through the ocean of people, trying to get away from the suffocating atmosphere of the floor. It took some time of people pushing around and into him, feeling overwhelmed by all the sounds and loud colours flashing in his face, but finally, he found an exit.

Despite trying to reach the door, he didn’t complain when he found a staircase instead. Anything would be better, as long as he could get some fresh air.

Gabi climbed up the floors, even though it felt like gravity had reversed and was trying to throw him back into the party. Everything in him told him to give in, let his legs give up, and just fall onto the strangely comfortable-looking floor that looked like it was getting bigger and bigger.

No. He had to resist. He needed air, that’s all. Air that didn’t stick to his skin like sweat or smelled like bad choices.

It reminded him of that day again. The night of the 2025 British Grand Prix, popping champagne bottles with Nico as if reliving the moment of the podium. Getting completely off his face and having Nico there to remind him when to stop.

He wished he had Nico here to remind him when to stop.

Nico always knew what to do. And when he didn’t, he and Gabi could figure it out. Together.

He still remembers dancing next to Nico when Bohemian Rhapsody came up, all the way back then. How happy Nico looked at that moment when he grabbed Gabi’s arm and yelled, “This one’s my favourite,” even though he wasn’t even looking at him, instead facing some team members who laughed in response. Gabi still doesn’t understand what they found so funny.

The thoughts finally emptied from his head when he reached one of the higher floors, stumbling to find an open window or somewhere he could sit down.

It took about three minutes of aimlessly wandering around before he spotted a glass door that looked different from the ones opening up to rooms. He slowly made his way towards it, leaning against the cold glass as he pushed it open.

The breeze against Gabi’s face was almost immediate, and he closed his eyes to focus on it.

He didn’t want to think about 2025. He didn’t want to think about Nico. He didn’t want to think about the party or Robin or music bands or anything. He just wanted the wind to wash it all away from him.

”Gabriel?”

Gabi opened his eyes, slowly glancing around the balcony he had just stumbled upon. There wasn’t much there, a few unoccupied chairs and a table with flowers. Metal railing coating the outer layer, probably for safety.

On the floor, leaning against the glass door, sat Bruno.

Gabi slowly lowered himself next to him, attempting to lean back on the part of the door he had previously held, only to realise he forgot to close it when he almost fell on his back.

”Careful there,” Bruno chuckled, offering a hand up for Gabi, who gratefully took it before rubbing at his back. “Tipsy, much?”

”Much, indeed,” He muttered back sulkily.

Bruno smiled at him. It didn’t reach his eyes.

”You’re not planning to drive yourself home like this, are you?”

Gabi shook his head, considering the question for a moment. No, he never planned on it from the start. He can either fetch an Uber or probably call Fernando up, hopefully he wouldn’t be too busy.

He almost questioned why Bruno asked, wondering if he would offer him a ride, when Bruno turned his head forward.

“Can ask Karun to give you a ride back home, then. He should have an empty seat, and I’d hate to see him going back with a stranger.”

Gabi eyed him carefully. Even if the words didn’t quite register, he could hear the pettiness in Bruno’s voice, which was surprising, as he’s never heard the man this… well, unhappy.

”Why?” He ended up asking, picking randomly between one-worded answers he could give.

Bruno sighed. He looked defeated; maybe he had also gotten a few drinks, as he seemed to forget about dignity for a while. “He dumped me.”

Gabi stared at him. “What?”

”He dumped me,” Bruno repeated, voice cracking. He looked like he was holding onto dear life to stop himself from crying, which, now that he looks at him more carefully through the moonlight, he clearly did earlier. “Just like that. He wouldn’t even tell me what I did, just… just told me this isn’t working, right before the race yesterday. Then he goes and crashes in the race, and he wouldn’t talk to me without his helmet on, and…”

Bruno sniffled, voice rising a pitch before abruptly stopping. Gabi felt something pulling in his chest. He was acting like it was the end of the world because a gorgeous lady kissed him, meanwhile, his friend was trying to keep it together after having just gotten his heart broken by his boyfriend.

His… boyfriend.

”You two were together?” Gabi blurted out, which he immediately regretted asking because of how unsympathetic it sounded. But all he could do was watch Bruno wipe at his face and nod.

”I-I thought so,” Bruno muttered, rushing for words like he was running out of air. “We were. I, for so long. This was the first year we got to compete together, it- we were supposed to do so well. To work together. Not- not just…” He broke off into a sob again.

Gabi hesitated, unsure what to do. He was never good at comforting people, not with words at least. This was all a shock for him, not to mention whatever it was that he had just gone through a measly ten minutes ago.

But that didn't matter right now. His little crybaby problems were nothing compared to this.

”I’m sorry, man,” He muttered, reaching out to pat Bruno’s shoulder. “I don’t… If I knew why he did that, I’d tell you, but I don’t. I might never, really, and you might never find out either. It’s hard to go through stuff like that, but there’s nothing you can do about it.

Bruno sniffled, still not looking at Gabi. “I know, I know. I just, I don’t know what I did to make him like this. And he wouldn’t even tell me. He looked so mad, I just wish I could fix it, but he wouldn’t let me.”

”I don’t think it’s something you did,” Gabi countered, trying to muster up whatever problem-solving skills he could still use. “Maybe he’s just going through hard stuff.”

”I’m supposed to help him through that hard stuff. That’s what we do, we help each other. Even if we fight, on track or not. I’m supposed to be there for him.”

”Maybe the help he needs right now is to be given space.”

Bruno shifted, finally turning to look at him. He looked like a mess, tears streaming down his cheeks, making his skin glow under the moon. There was a hopeful glint in his eye, like Gabi was the last thing giving him hope. “I… you think so?”

”I hope so,” Gabi replied, because he wasn’t sure he could think too deeply about anything right now without his head hurting.

Bruno offered a smile, half forced and half bittersweet. But bittersweet is half bitter, half sweet, so does that make it a third forced? Or half forced and a fourth sweet?

What was he doing again?

Right. Bruno was hugging him, only for a few seconds, though. Bruno looked down at him again, muttering a small, “Thank you. Really.”

Gabi had too many questions with too little brainpower to ask them. But there was one more thing on his mind that, while the time was probably not appropriate for, his willpower to keep his mouth shut was crumbling faster than he managed to down those shots earlier with Vitaly.

”Can I tell you something?”

Bruno nodded slowly.

Gabi took a breath.

”I think I’m in love with Nico.”

There. He said it.

And… damn that felt good. He didn’t allow himself to think those words, let alone say them out loud, but now that he did, he felt a lot better. Like he didn’t have to keep whatever was wrong with him strictly inside anymore.

Bruno watched him for a moment, not speaking, before he looked forward again. “I figured,” He admitted slowly. “He feels the same.”

Gabi frowned. “I’m being honest with you, and you’re laughing at my face.”

”Do I look like I’m joking right now?”

No, Gabi had to admit, Bruno looked dead serious. But his expression and words didn’t match.

”Look, I…” Gabi ran a hand through his hair in frustration, “I don’t want to be… you-know-what with him. I don’t want to feel this, I don’t want us to be together, I don’t… I don’t wanna be his.” Bruno didn’t respond, and that prompted Gabi to continue. “But I also kinda do.”

”If there’s a ‘but’, it’s not a no,” Bruno offered, probably just trying to sympathise with Gabi a bit. “So why aren’t you doing something about it?”

Gabi shifted uncomfortably. “You’ll think I’m crazy,” He said, meaning that in more ways than one.

He won’t tell him about 2025. Absolutely, under no circumstances will he tell him. But, fortunately, or unfortunately, in the long run, he has more things making him sound insane.

”I doubt that,” Bruno countered, “But go on.”

”I don’t want something to start between us just for him to snap out of it and realise I’m not good for him. I don’t even know how I can try to make him feel the same, but if he does, how do I… how do I make it last? How do I know he’ll stay no matter what?”

No matter if he knows that Gabi lied to him, lied to everyone, and practically broke the laws of nature to go back in time to race here. To meet him. Despite being so much younger. Would Nico hate him? Would he feel disgusted?

“Well, you don’t,” Bruno simply replied.

Gabi crossed his arms over his chest. “That isn’t helping.”

”But it’s true. You don’t know.” Bruno moved, getting up from where he sat and dusting himself off. “You just have to trust him and the fact that he loves you. Which, Gabi, he does. I don’t see why you think you’d be bad for him, but,” He ran a hand over his face, “If he’s wrong for you, you’ll know. And if you two are like Karun and I, I guess you’ll waste your time waiting ever so patiently and never find out.”

Gabi stood up as well, only to immediately regret it when his vision started getting blurry. He blinked a few times until it went away. “So that’s it? I just try anyway, even if it can ruin me?”

”That’s how it is, apparently.” Bruno sighed, turning to the door. “Thank you for the talk, Gabi. I, well, I needed it.”

Gabi nodded slowly, leaning against the cool glass to avoid stumbling. “Promise me you’ll wait for Karun?”

”If you promise me you’ll wait for Nico.”

He hated that smug smirk that replaced the previously sad one, but couldn’t stop himself from grinning once they shook hands on the vow like a business deal.

Just as they walked back into the hotel, the music still blaring in the background, Gabi asked him one final question.

”Why do you think Nico… you know, anyway?”

Bruno gave him a knowing smile that, really, should have prepared Gabi for the answer of, “He told me.”

Gabriel felt so sick the next morning that the first thing he did when he woke up was vomit, brush his teeth, then head right back to bed.

The next time he woke up, at 2 pm in the afternoon, he miserably lay in bed and tried to lull his head into a painless state. He could practically feel the alcohol sending venom through his veins, but felt too weak to drink more water or get up for any reason, really.

Eventually, he convinced himself to sit up with a groan and reach for his phone to Google some advice.

That turned out to be a big mistake, however, as he had over two hundred unread messages in the rookie group chat and about 47 missed calls from Sophie.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, not wanting to think of whatever that could be.

Instead, he did the next best thing and dialled Fernando.

”Papai…?” He groaned into the phone, not even trying to make himself sound stable.

The response came immediately. “I’m on my way. What’s wrong? Are you safe? Where are you?”

He hardly managed to answer the questions, but it seemed good enough for Fernando, who showed up around twenty minutes later. Gabi only had to get up to answer the door, a task that already had him stumbling through the hotel room like a fish on land, leaning against any surface available to balance himself.

On the other side of the door stood a frantic Fernando, followed by a tired but not any less enthusiastic Sebastian behind him.

Fernando practically pounced on him.

”Are you okay? Who were you out drinking with? Do you know them? Did anyone do anything to you? Why didn’t you call me earlier?” He started, followed by what must’ve been a hundred more questions that Gabi felt entirely too smothered in Fernando’s arms to answer.

He just groaned and rested his forehead against the other’s shoulder.

”Relax, Nando, it’s probably the kid’s first hangover. Let him live a little.” Sebastian tried to reason, flicking on the lights in the previously dark room, making Gabi squint.

Fernando practically hissed at Seb, meanwhile Gabi just stared at him in confusion. “Why are you also here?”

”I brought snacks,” He shrugged, walking over to pat Gabi’s head. “And your old man can be a lot to deal with, so I invited myself for moral support.”

Moral support was far from what Gabi had ended up getting, which was a mix of health advice and weird shakes and food combinations he was made to try, scolding he hardly had the working brain to understand, and finally concerns about the race.

He eventually told Fernando about all the missed phone calls, too, and he suggested he’d help with them.

Gabi gladly agreed, though he probably wouldn’t have if he understood that Fernando meant he would help in that moment.

Sophie picked up within a few rings when Gabi dialled her number on speaker, only to immediately flinch when he heard the yelling.

”Gabriel, where have you been? Do you have any idea how much trouble you just caused? Ferrari is livid, and frankly so is Peter. You’re going to have to do a lot to fix this, if you manage to.”

God, this was already making his head hurt. “What are you talking about…?”

This only seemed to make her attitude worse. “Have you not opened any news app since the race? A reporter took a picture of you cuddled up against Fernando Alonso, and it’s getting passed around like wildfire. I tried to pay the report off but it was too late, and now it’s all over the internet.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Fernando intervened, probably not liking her tone. “I don’t see how Ferrari has anything to do with Gabi’s personal life.”

”I’m sorry, who is this?”

”Fernando.”

That was all the confirmation she needed. “You of all people should know how big of a deal this is, then! Your team’s PR department sent Sauber a notice over this, they don’t want to be tied to any of the new rookies. And that includes you, sir.”

”That is bullshit, Ferrari gets off to being worshipped by rookies just as much as any team. And Gabi is not ‘being tied’ to Ferrari. He needed a hug, and I gave him one. That has nothing to do with racing.”

”I would agree on that, if it wasn’t for the lawsuit that might fall on the team if this goes on.” She finally countered, her voice rising. “If you have a problem, talk to your own team. For now, for the love of god, stay away from Gabriel when you’re around cameras.”

A beat of silence passed as Fernando rubbed his temples, and Gabi debated hanging up before Sebastian chose to speak up.

”…Hey, Sophie,” He muttered hesitantly. Now that he thought about it, didn’t she mention being Sebastian’s old PR manager?

”Seb?” Came the reply finally, not sounding any less irritated.

Fernando frowned. “You recognise him immediately but not me?”

”Well, I didn’t work for you,” She scoffed, turning her attention back to Seb. “What are you doing there? How many drivers do you have with you?”

”Just the three of us,” Seb dismissed. “Gabi got a little hungover yesterday, so we came by to check on him. You should relax a bit when it comes to him, he’s a mature guy and-“

”Don’t you tell me about maturity when you let that kid go and get himself drunk enough to sound like he’s dying,” Sophie hissed, only seeming to let herself be more aggressive with Sebastian. And he seemed to accept it with only a slight wince. God, managers are scary. “Do your PR teams teach you nothing?”

”No,” was the instant reply from both Fernando and Seb at the same time, making Gabi smirk a little.

He tuned out most of the conversation from that point, instead munching on some of the potato chips Sebastian brought him, and they watched some old 80s rom-com once the call was done.

Gabi fidgeted with his seatbelt as Fernando started the car, the comfortable leather of the Ferrari not helping ease his nerves.

He wasn’t sure why he pushed himself to tell him today. Maybe it was because Rubens offered to take them both to the European Grand Prix, along with Nico, of course, and he didn’t want to have to worry about tripping over his words to avoid the topic. Maybe it was because Fernando offered to drive him there even if the hangover had long passed. Or maybe it was because, if Nico was also queer, there might be more drivers, too.

In 2025, he was with his girlfriend, and didn’t need to go through complicated things like this.

He rarely ever had to come out to people, now that he thinks of it. His parents didn’t know; they refused to meet his ex-girlfriend and he doubted that would change if she were a guy. Enzo knew he was the first person he confided in with every subject, and crushes were much the same.

Ollie knew, though, that he kind of figured it out by himself. Fernando did, too, though that was probably Gabi’s fault for sending him Instagram compilations with titles like ‘Gabriel Bortoleto fruity moments’. He had gotten one hell of a scolding about respecting people’s identities before Fernando gave him enough time to explain why he found it so funny.

Max knew, probably from Fernando, and got Gabi more pride-themed racing merch than his house had room for. Naturally, this meant George and Kimi knew too, for better or for worse.

Other than that, the only other person he had to come out to was Nico, which was ironic in a way he refused to think about.

He sucked in his breath. That was a problem for future Gabriel. Right now, he had Fernando to talk to.

”You’re quiet,” he finally spoke, catching Fernando glancing at him.

”I’m listening to the radio.”

”Right. I forgot you’re that old.” Fernando elbowed him lightly, making him snicker. “Okay, okay, sorry,” he added as he reached over to turn the radio off.

Fernando scoffed but said nothing, which Gabi more than appreciated.

Right. Now or never.

”I wanted to ask,” He started, testing the waters slowly, “If I ever end up, you know, dating somebody, would you want to meet them?”

The response was immediate. “Them?”

Gabi frowned. “Yes.”

”Well, if you want me to.”

Gabi stared at him expectantly, waiting for Fernando to continue, to explain his questioning, to elaborate on his answer, but he did none of those.

It was simple and confusing at the same time.

”Why did you ask when I said ‘them’?”

Fernando glanced at him again. He was smiling.

”I was expecting a name.”

Unconvinced, Gabi pushed further. “Are you sure that’s why?”

”Gabi, hijo, if you want to tell me something, just say it. worst-case scenario, I’ll crash the car.” He checked Gabi’s expression before quickly clearing up, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

Well, he had no choice but to say it outright, it seemed. Leaning back against the chair, he looked at the road, forcing the words out of his throat. “I’m bi.”

”Bi?”

”Bisexual,” Gabi echoed. He would have probably tried to take it back if not for the smirk on Fernando’s face. “I can date both genders.”

”Thank you for telling me, then.” Fernando finally said, his smile softening for a moment, just enough to let Gabi know he was good. That was until, of course, he added, “Did you tell Nico yet?”

”What does Nico have to do with this?” Gabi answered, too fast.

Fernando grinned. “Don’t play dumb with me, hijo.”

They spent the rest of that car ride sending jabs each other’s way before arriving at the airport. Unfortunately for Gabriel, Nico and Rubens went out to greet them, and Fernando kept sending him smirks every time he stared at Nico for a little too long.

Was it really that obvious?

When did he even accept that ‘it’ was a thing? He’s going insane. Why do things have to be so complicated? Can’t he and Nico just be friends like they used to? 

He would have continued thinking about it for the rest of the trip if not for Nico falling asleep on his shoulder on the flight.

He wasn’t sure how he didn’t die then and there, but Rubens and Fernando both seemed all too entertained by his misery.

The European track, the second one in Spain for the season, proved much better for Gabriel than he anticipated. Sim sessions had him finish in the top 12 almost exclusively, although that mainly came from him spending almost twice the recommended hours training on it.

Pedro, meanwhile, wasn’t doing as well, at least in Amir’s eyes. He was struggling with the high altitude of corners that Gabi usually thrived in and blamed the car for it.

But so long as he got to give it his all, he didn’t care much where Pedro was.

Before FP1 he was forced to go into a meeting with a few Sauber and Ferrari executives, Fernando, and both their PR managers to discuss what they should do with the media.

The Ferrari team, apparently, didn’t have much to say other than they were trying to protect the brand from rumours. Fernando got pissed at them, and so did Sophie, while Gabi just tried not to get himself in any bigger trouble.

He wasn’t fully sure what the consensus was when they ended the meeting a few hours later, but he did know that neither side was happy with the result. 

Except for him, of course, since he and Nico planned to have lunch together.

Qualifying proved better than Gabi expected, having just barely made it into Q3 and secured a starting 10th position. He was thrilled, to say the least, finally getting another chance to secure some points.

He was in the middle of discussing how to make the most of the car upgrades with Amir afterwards, walking towards the crowds of fans where he had some media duties to fulfil, when he saw Nico again.

He instantly brightened up when he saw him, only exchanging a hello and goodbye, but it was enough to make him giddy with excitement.

It was childish, sure, but seeing Nico after every race was the highlight of his day.

And apparently, he wasn’t very good at hiding it, either, as the moment Nico left, Amir turned to him with a shit-eating grin. “Someone’s excited to see you.”

Gabi blinked, taking a moment to register the fact he was being teased. “What?”

”Hulkenberg,” Amir explained, nodding towards the man who was now walking away from them. “I’d do anything to have someone look at me the way that man looks at you.”

”Nico? At me?” Absolutely not,” Gabi scoffed, playfully elbowing Amir in the ribs.

Amir only snickered, returning the gesture. “Yes, at you. Can’t keep his eyes off you for more than a second. Are you blind or in on it?”

”That’s very unprofessional speech from you,” Gabi retorted in a mock-offended tone.

”Awh, come on. It’s all in good fun.” Amir dismissed, smiling more kindly again. “I know if something was really going on between you two, you’d tell me.”

”Would I?” Gabi countered.

Amir frowned. “Is there?”

Gabi didn’t respond, not even when his engineer started pressing him for answers before dramatically giving up.

He really wished he could tell him there was something, but even he wasn’t sure himself.

Well, there was something. He just didn’t know if Nico wanted there to be.

Gabriel knew the team had a lot of hopes going into this race, but he tried not to let too much of the pressure get to him.

Motivation was always good, but only to a certain extent.

When he was racing, nothing outside of his car mattered. It was just him, the steering wheel, and speeding obstacles for him to overtake. As soon as the lights were out, he drove like it was the very last thing he would ever get to do, and he enjoyed every second of it.

Usually, he tries to make the most of the first corner. Most drivers do, if they want to get easy overtakes. This time, though, he stayed back, focusing on defending his position while staying close to the car ahead along the straight.

The second and third corners were right up against each other, letting Gabi swing his car through them and use the oversteer to block the Renault ahead from keeping its position, promoting him to P9.

”Nice job,” Amir praised over the radio.

Gabi could feel it in his blood. He was getting a podium today, no matter what that took.

By the next few corners, he managed to catch up to the Williams in front, making a few sharp turns that got blocked.

”Hold, wait for the next sector.” His engineer instructed.

Gabi muttered a few complaints but did so, not wanting to risk contact.

And, it paid off well, as by the start of the second lap he finally managed to overtake.

”That’s P8, yes?”

”Yeah, yeah it is. Webber ahead in 7th, gap 6 seconds.”

Gabi nearly forgot to respond for a moment. “7th? What’s he doing here?”

”Contact with Button up ahead, dropped a few positions. Poor guy.”

”I’ll make sure to comfort him after the race,” Gabi hummed, focusing on making the next few laps as smooth as possible as he caught up to the Red Bull ahead.

It took a while, admittedly. Mark was already battling with the car in P6 when he narrowed the gap to just under a second, and it was looking to be a tight squeeze if he tried to make a move.

”Do I hold?” He checked.

”Best if you do,” Amir confirmed, “Put some pressure on them, stay close behind. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

And, thankfully, just that happened, when Mark pulled into the pits the next lap and seemed to completely disappear anywhere near Gabi.

But he wasn’t complaining. Just one step closer to that podium.

While trying to catch up to the car ahead, a safety car was called, halting the race and making Gabi lose his momentum.

Amir didn’t sound any less determined, though, telling him, “Box box, make the most of it.”

He pulled into the pits before returning back out to the safety car, slotting his Sauber right back in the P7 he had rightfully earned.

As soon as the race cleared up, he was back to chasing down the Force India ahead, making a perfect turn to pass without any fuss.

Halfway there. He was so close.

“Gap ahead?” He checked.

”Two and a half.”

”Make that one.”

”You’re the one in the car, mate.”

”Watch me make that one, then.”

Fortunately, Gabi did quick work on proving his word true, finishing another few laps while getting closer every time. The gap to the car behind him was building up, too; he couldn’t even see it in his mirrors.

”Where’s Webber? Still in the pit lane?” He joked.

”Checking,” Amir informed him, a few seconds passing before he added, “Crashed back there, I’m afraid. Rosberg behind you, 12 seconds.”

He silently thanked Mark for shaking up the grid as he made his way closer to the car ahead, threatening it slowly before finally making the move and passing it on a turn.

He didn’t even remember what position he was in right now, but he could hardly bother himself with it. He just had to keep driving, keep moving faster.

The car in P5 was already close by, enough for Gabi to try and pass, but that proved more difficult than before. His tyres weren’t liking all the sharp turns, even if his engine seemed to thrive from it.

”Can I pit again?” Gabi checked through his teeth, focusing all of the strength in his body into the car.

”Preparing the pit for you, stay out one more lap.”

”One more lap and then one more lap and then the race is over, you mean?”

Amir sounded irritated but didn’t lose his patience. “One more lap, no more than that.”

Gabi begrudgingly accepted, telling himself not to let the race frustrate him too much as he drove through another lap before pitting again. The gap behind him was being narrowed by the moment, so he had to act fast.

As soon as he was back on the track, he continued going at it against the P5 car, fighting back and forth until he finally pushed ahead.

He got one big breath of the top 5 in his lungs before the position was taken from him again in the very next corner.

The next few laps were spent trading the position over and over again, until a little contact between wheels had him backing off. Thankfully, there wasn’t enough time in the race for Rosberg to catch up to him, but he was absolutely certain that one more lap, and he was gone for good.

”That’s P6, mate,” Amir cheered over the radio, “Amazing race, lovely to see.”

Gabi couldn’t resist a little smirk. “Simply lovely, yes.”

As he drove back into the garage after crossing the checkered flag, it occurred to him that it would take a good 5 years before anyone would laugh when he says that.

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

Good morning.

When are you leaving for the UK?

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Sorry, I was sleeping

How do you wake up that early??

I think I have a few more days till the flight

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

You sleep that long? I’m jealous.

I was planning on watching one of the old James Bond movies.

If you’re free today, maybe you can join me.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Sure I’ll join

Where’s the screening?

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

No screening. Just a movie night at my hotel.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Oh

Sounds like you’re asking me out on a date

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

When I ask you out, it won’t be on short notice.

Not very thoughtful of me.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

I’ll be over at 7

Chapter Text

Gabriel couldn’t deny how excited he was to go to Silverstone, one of the most iconic tracks in the sport.

He might have DNFed the first time he raced there in 2025, but that same race was Nico’s first podium, which left a very pleasant taste in his mouth for the track. Maybe he was just being sentimental, but he liked the thought of making sure Nico did well on this race, too.

He was starting to regret that he didn’t memories all the race results when he had the chance, so he’d know what to look out for.

Unfortunately, Nico and Rubens weren’t flying together this time, so Gabi didn’t join them, but as soon as he was on British soil, he was blowing up Nico’s phone with pictures.

They had to have been texting for at least an hour, in fact, as he only looked up from his phone once Pedro informed him their ride to the hotel was here. He also muttered something about Gabi being irresponsible, but he chose not to pay attention to that part.

Though, as soon as he was in his hotel room, they turned the chat into a video call that lasted a few hours longer.

The first free practice went fine, Gabriel supposed. He and Amir were more focused on getting the right setup rather than getting the fastest laps, which was a bit boring, at least in Gabi's eyes, but he knew it was important for the race.

While waiting for FP2 to start, he went outside to get some air, deciding to take a walk around the track and meet some fans while he was at it. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to go outside this time, but no one stopped him, so he supposed it was okay.

He stopped every so often to sign a hat or a shirt and take a picture with a fan, enjoying how happy all of them looked to meet him.

A few reporters tried asking him questions, but he dismissed most of them with a, “The conference is later, I can answer more there.”

Gabi was a pretty humble person, at least he liked to think he was, but he had to admit, all the attention was making him feel good. There were a lot of younger kids and teens roaming around gushing at him, and he made sure to give each of them a photo or an autograph. He was always used to being the youngest, in his family, friend groups, and on track, but there was always something he liked about being able to help someone younger than him. Like he was repaying what Enzo did for him and passing it on to someone else.

And he was intending on continuing this for a bit, if not for his eyes meeting with a certain Lewis Hamilton, who tore himself away from the reporter he and Nico Rosberg were talking to in favour of bee-lining towards Gabi.

He stiffened up as soon as he made eye contact with Lewis. That was the first time he looked at him directly since 2025.

It shouldn’t be weird, though. He knew Nico and Fernando back then, and he had no problem talking to them now. Lewis was a good guy, even if he only knew him during possibly his worst year of F1. He has nothing to feel nervous about.

Yet Gabi still felt a little awkward as Lewis approached him, avoiding eye contact again.

It wasn’t the same as when he met Charles. It just felt… different. Like he was actively lying just by standing there.

”Gabriel, here you are.” Lewis said, stopping in front of Gabi and flashing him a smile. The fans that had gathered around him earlier weren’t stepping back, but he tried not to pay attention to them. “I wanted to talk to you since Spain, you pulled off an amazing performance there. Really good for a rookie.”

”Yes, uh, thank you. It wasn’t all me, wouldn’t have gotten that high up if Webber didn’t fuck up.”

Lewis laughed, and Gabi was glad he took it as a joke. “He did screw up, but still. Half the challenge in racing is taking opportunities when you’re given them, and that’s just what you did there. You got lucky, sure, but you made the most of it.”

Gabi nodded because he wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t usually this awkward in social situations. He was often the talkative one in friend groups or with his family, at least when he was in the right headspace for it.

But right now, all he wanted was to finish this as quickly as possible and not have to face any crisis about what this could mean for him.

After about eight seconds, Lewis continued.

”Jenson told me this would be weird to say, but it reminds me of my first season. It was an entirely different point system, and I was getting wins and podiums much more often- not that I mean this in a bad way, I’m sure that if you drove the McLaren, you would show much better results, but that's just a hypothetical.”

Lewis paused to take a breath, and Gabi felt a strange sense of familiarity. He was used to rambling like that, saying the wrong thing and feeling a sudden urge to clarify it before the other person gets the wrong idea. Was Lewis nervous?

”It’s… alright. I didn’t think you were trying to be an ass,” Gabi tried.

A small, thankful smile found place on Lewis’s face. “Thank you. What I was trying to say is, you’re going to do well. And you might become a big shot one day and win races, but you’re not going to do it in a Sauber.”

”No?” Gabi repeated, even if he knew this to be true. He wanted so hard to be better, to push the car to podiums, pole positions, and championships, but it couldn’t. Sauber Ferrari was a midfield team with an engine that could only get him so far, and no matter how good he was as a driver, this is the fate he has.

And yet, something about the way Lewis said that felt like a personal attack against his team.

”Robert Kubica won in a Sauber, in 2008,” He settled on instead, thinking to a bit of history he was made to learn about the team. “They had a 1-2 finish, actually. I should be able to do that with Pedro, too.”

Lewis’s expression softened a bit, which didn’t offer Gabi any comfort. “You’ll need to hope for a lot more screw ups for that than just Webber, though. I’m not saying it couldn’t happen, but the odds aren’t in your favour. You can dream on, but don’t expect they’ll all come true.”

“Right.” Gabi was done with this conversation. He tried to force a smile, not wanting to come off as rude, even if at the same time he really wanted to yell a few profanities and storm off. “I should probably head back, I have an… uh, that.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t want to hold you up too long. I should finish that interview with Nico, too,” Lewis agreed, and for a second, Gabi felt a sudden spike of jealousy at the mention of Nico. Great, so not only was Lewis mocking him for not being as good as other drivers, but now he was also doing an interview with Nico all of a sudden?

It took a second for him to remind himself that the Nico in question was, in fact, not Hulkenberg, but the bitter words he’d thought of left his mouth before he could stop them.

”Yes, right. Give him a ‘missed you’ kiss while you’re at it, then.”

He immediately knew he shouldn’t have said that when he saw the weird look that Lewis shot him as he walked off, having just been a jerk for no apparent reason. Although it did feel good to finally let his frustration out, Lewis didn’t deserve that. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked off in the opposite direction.

When Gabriel returned for FP2, he passed by the Williams garage, hoping to exchange a bit of encouragement with Nico before heading off. He didn’t necessarily need it, sure, but he always performed better in a good mood. And Nico always managed to put him in a good mood.

He did find Nico there, but he was talking with Bruno, and he looked a bit frustrated. Did something happen to his car? Gabi should really start looking at the results after races more often. Bruno looked calmer, as he usually did, and though he couldn’t make out what they were saying from that distance, he could tell Bruno was probably comforting him.

Could they be talking about him?

Gabi turned around at that thought and started walking in the opposite direction, quickly moving behind a building so they wouldn’t see he was there.

Nico looked so upset, he didn’t know what he’d do if that was because of him. Why would Nico be annoyed at him? Did he forget to respond to a text? Or maybe he was expecting him to stop by earlier, and Gabi didn’t realise.

Okay, he needs to relax. It’s probably not about him. Maybe Bruno said something that Nico didn’t like. Though, that seemed unlikely. He knew the two of them were good friends, Nico even told Bruno that he loves him.

Oh god.

Was Bruno telling Nico what Gabi told him? All this thinking was making his head hurt. He didn’t like this. He doesn’t need this attitude going into the car, but it would probably do him good to clear his mind for a while.

Okay. He’s okay. Whatever they talked about, he can ask Bruno later. He should trust him; he’s a good person.

But why would Nico look so upset to know Gabi’s in love with him? Was he joking when he told Bruno that thing, god knows when? Fuck, why does his life have to be so messy?

Despite the turmoil in his mind, Gabi swept it to the back of his head when he got in the car for qualifying. The only thing he needed to worry about right now was doing a lap as fast as the car would let him.

The car didn’t work quite how he wanted, as, despite his best efforts, every other corner he went off the lines. The last time he raced here, exactly the same thing happened, which annoyed him.

”Try for another lap, at least set one so we have a chance of making it to Q2. It’s alright if the first one is slower.” Amir told him over the radio after the third attempt.

”That’s bullshit,” Gabi protested as he turned his car around a corner, “I have way too much oversteer. I can’t race like this.”

There was some quiet chatter over the radio that Gabi didn’t bother making out, before Amir returned with an uncertain, “Rosa is reporting the same thing. We’ll get him in the garage and see what we can do. Until then, please keep trying.”

Gabi knew Pedro was the first driver, and he was supposed to be the team’s priority. But he couldn’t help but feel robbed of a chance to do better.

Maybe that spark of disappointment-turned-anger was just what he needed, though, as he finally managed to set a lap time, placing him 17th on the grid.

Not enough.

He went for another one, moving his body with the car like they were one in the same, not letting his guard down for a second. It didn’t help much, as by the time he managed a faster lap, so did everyone else.

One minute before Q1 ended, Amir told him they’d found the problem, and to box to try one final lap. He wasn’t sure if he’d make it, but there was nothing to lose. 

The pits were empty, thankfully, and he just barely stayed under the speed cap as he pulled in and stopped to let the engineers go at his car. He counted the second tick by as they worked on his car, managing to leave just quick enough to try one final lap as the count reached 0.

He gave it his all. And the car gave him a temporary P16. Just enough for Q2.

The next session went better, so much better in fact that he was getting green sectors left and right. Of course, each time that would happen, the leading cars would only get faster, while he’d be left back in the dust, but a win is a win.

He managed to get into Q3, and not even barely. Pedro stayed back in P15, not getting along with the car just as right, but that wasn’t too bad. He’d show them who the real number one driver should be.

Which, thankfully, he did, by securing a 7th place start. He grinned so wide when he got out of the car that Vitaly didn't stop teasing him about it the entire day.

After the race ended, Gabriel took an ice bath and changed into a fresh pair of clothes, very happy with himself.

P5. Unbelievable. It was even better than the P6 he’d managed in the last Grand Prix; at this pace, he’s going to get a podium in no time.

As much as he’d like to take all the credit, the car was doing exceptionally well, too. It felt great, and the wheels moved just as he wanted them. The straights were looking a lot better, too; the car has definitely lost some unnecessary weight that was making it move much smoother.

However, he didn’t head back into the garage to talk with the team and go over data. Not immediately, at least.

Instead, he headed for the HRT garage.

It was only a short stroll away from the Sauber one, so he hummed some music to himself on the way. He was in such a good mood that he almost forgot to reply when Karun greeted him.

”Hey, mate,” He gave in return, dapping him up. “Good race.”

”Easy for you to say, Mr P5.” He retorted.

Gabi laughed. He liked Karun; he was easy to talk to and loved making jokes almost as much as Vitaly did. 

He was about to continue walking when the Indian spoke again, asking, “Need anything from here? Just to make sure you’re not here for my seat.”

Gabi hesitated, unsure if he should answer truthfully. On a normal day, he would have had no problem saying he was here to talk to Bruno and walking away like it was nothing. But he wasn’t sure if it was worth ruining Karun’s mood.

He hesitated for a second too long, but ended up admitting, “Just needed to ask Bruno something.”

”Ah. Good luck with it.”

Karun walked away after that, expression unchanged, but Gabi saw the way his shoulders tensed slightly. He really should have made something up.

If he and Nico ever broke up, would they act the same way around each other? Jesus, they weren’t even together in the first place. He shouldn’t think about those things.

With that settled, he continued inside the garage, asking a few engineers for directions until he located Bruno talking with a few HRT team members. He waited for a few seconds, hoping he’d notice him, to no avail.

At least he tried, Gabi thought, before walking over and gently tugging on Bruno’s shoulder. “Hey, mate, got a minute?”

Bruno turned to him, stiffening a bit at the touch, but not unkindly. “Oh, sure.” He muttered, excusing himself from the previous conversation before turning to Gabi.

They took a few good steps away from the other people, standing in a large area with plenty of empty space, at least enough for no one to hear them unless they were actively trying. Gabi took a breath, trying to phrase the words in his mind correctly, but he knew no matter what he said, his tone would make it just as accusatory.

”What did you tell Nico?”

Bruno stared at him for a moment, expression unreadable. “…What?”

”I saw you talking after FP2, he looked really upset. What did you tell him? Was it about me? Did you tell him… You know, what I said?”

A nervous smile spread on Bruno’s face, looking like he was trying to calm down a very hyperactive child. “Slow down, it’s not like that,” He said, gesturing with his hands.

”Then what is it like? You can’t just expect me not to ask!” Gabi exclaimed, gesturing widely with his hands. He understood how desperate it made him look, which was pathetic, really. So two of his friends had a chat. What’s the big deal?

But it was not just a chat. Was it? It might not have been. He can’t be sure. He has to know.

Bruno shook his head exasperatedly, although he didn’t look very surprised. “I didn’t tell him, no. We talk about other things than his hopeless crush on you, I assure you.”

Gabi almost smiled at that, but the part of him that spoke stayed annoyed. “How do I know you didn’t tell him? You told me he’s… that he… um, yeah.”

Even now, he couldn’t bring himself to say it, in his head or out loud. It felt wrong to think that Nico, the man who had always treated him so kindly, looked at him like he hung the moon and was probably the closest bond he’d ever formed other than Enzo and Fernando, loved him. But it wasn’t that Nico. It was this Nico.

This Nico that treats him not like the future star that he wants a part in the story of, but… like the present. Like nothing matters but what they have. Like he wouldn’t care where Gabi is from and what he has been through, and just loves him, fully and wholeheartedly.

Bruno’s voice brought him back to life as he answered, “I don’t have a reason to lie to you.”

”So you do have a reason to lie to him?”

”I’m not lying to him.”

Gabi gave him a look. Bruno shifted his weight between his legs.

”Fine, fine. Yes, I do have a reason. That’s not something for me to tell him, you’re the one who should do it.”

”And it is something for you to tell me, but not the other way?”

Bruno wiped at his face, trying to keep himself composed, and Gabi couldn’t tell if he was keeping himself from yelling or laughing. Knowing him, it was probably the latter.

”Gabi, have you not seen the way he’s been making heart-eyes at you across the paddock since, what, Monaco? It’s painful to watch. I had to say something, or you would have never figured it out.”

”It’s… not that, he didn’t…” Gabi protested, feeling a little embarrassed at the thought. He knew the kind of look Bruno was referring to, but he looked at Nico the exact same way. It was just… joy, a kind of happiness you can only get from someone you love.

”Fucking hell, couldn’t you have told me sooner?”

Bruno finally laughed, a small, lighthearted laugh that didn’t make Gabi feel any better about this.

”I tried, mate, but I was dealing with a few things of my own.” He didn’t elaborate on that, but Gabi had a pretty good idea what he meant. “Are you planning to talk to him yet?”

”Well…” Gabi drawled, making a prolonged gesture with his hand.

He’s thought about it, sure. Ran scenarios in his head while trying to fall asleep, judged possible outcomes while daydreaming in team meetings, and saved the best of said outcomes to delve into in the shower. None of which he was going to admit, though.

”I don’t know. I get what you mean, but just… I don’t know. It’s kind of scary, you know? How do I know for sure that you’re right?”

Bruno considered it for a moment, leaning back on a wall next to them before delivering his response. “Well, you don’t.”

Gabi frowned. “What?”

”You just don’t. There’s no way to guarantee anything. You can hope, you can try your best, you can ask your friends to check with him, but you don’t know for sure. That’s just how life is. You try your best, sometimes it works, and other times it doesn’t.”

”When did you become so old and wise?”

Bruno shook his head slowly. “Been listening to a few too many melodramatic songs, I fear.”

Gabi laughed. “Any advice for when I break up with Nico?”

It was a joke, most obviously. Like hell he’d let someone like Nico get away if he had the chance to date them.

”Don’t even joke, mate,” Bruno dismissed, pausing for a moment before continuing with a different tone. “Actually, I can give you some advice, though.”

Gabi tilted his head to the side, intrigued. “Oh?”

”I never told you how Karun and I got together, right?” He didn’t give Gabi time to answer ‘no’, “We met through some mutual friends back in karting days, but until F1, we never raced directly against each other. I was really down bad for him for a long time, but I was too nervous to do anything about it. Then one time, he was over at my house, just the two of us, which didn’t happen that much back then, and he sat really close to me, and asked, ‘What would you do if I kissed you right now?’”

Gabi couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at the way Bruno closed his eyes dreamily when he recalled that. He hoped he didn’t look that obvious when he talked about Nico. “And how did you mess it up?”

”I didn’t mess it up, necessarily,” Bruno protested, before finishing the story with, “I laughed awkwardly and said he’d at least have to take me to dinner first. As a joke. But we went out that night. And I did give him that kiss afterwards.”

”And Vitaly says I’m corny,” Gabi grimaced at how sweet the story was, teasing Bruno perhaps a bit too much, though, so he gave it up and smiled gratefully. “But I’ll keep that in mind.”

”Right. Just don’t use that specific one on Nico, because he’ll know where you got it from.”

”How many drivers knew about you and Karun before I did?”

”Mate, don’t even get me started…”

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Hey

Down 4 dinner?

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

Sure.

Anywhere in particular or do I get to choose?

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Wherever you want

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

Very thoughtful of you.

I’ll search up places nearby and let you know.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Or we can go walk around

Find somewhere on the spot

Maybe stop at a bar or something on the way

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

Are you trying to get me drunk?

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Maybe :)

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

I’d much rather we do that in my hotel room, then.

Less chance of embarrassing myself in front of more people.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

If you’re drinking I am too

So double embarrassment

But sure

Send me the location?

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

Of course darling.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Darling?

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

Bothers you?

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

No no

Not at all

How do you say that in German?

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

Darling?

Would be ‘leibling’ but you can also use ‘schatz’.

What about Portuguese?

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Queirdo

But lindo fits you better

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

Am I supposed to know what that means?

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Nope

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

Are you gonna tell me?

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Also nope :)

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

However you want it, darling.

Gabriel showed Bruno the texts the next day, along with a brief summary of the possibly-but-he’s-not-entirely-sure-was-a-date dinner they had.

Bruno answered with a shake of his head and a mutter of, “You’re hopeless.”

Which, to be fair to Bruno, was kind of true. Vitaly started pointing it out whenever Gabi mentioned Nico in a conversation, usually entirely unrelated to the Williams driver. He surprised himself with just how often that happened.

But was it really a bad thing? He liked talking about Nico. He occupied his thoughts a lot, so it made sense, too. But he’d probably just get teased more if he said that.

Gabriel woke up on Monday morning to a few notifications on his phone, which he checked while having breakfast in the hotel lobby.

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

Morning darling.

Rubens and I are flying to Germany at 5 pm today.

Let me know if you can make it.

We can also wait and leave later if you’d like.

He thought it was kind of cute that Nico offered to delay the flight for him, and he quickly typed a response.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Good for me

Big day for you, home race and all

Show me around your town?

Next, there were some notifications from Twitter that kept his phone buzzing every few minutes, which he tried to ignore while replying to Nico. He usually tried to avoid Twitter after some bad experiences in 2025, and it was much the same now. But curiosity got the better of him, and he hesitantly clicked on one of the pop-ups.

It was a tweet by a user he didn’t know that had a twenty-second clip of him defending against a Mercedes behind him in yesterday's race. The caption read, ‘Gabriel secures P5 after an amazing performance against Nico Rosberg!’

He was almost surprised to see the post with just over ten thousand likes, praising him instead of making some excuse for Rosberg behind him.

He didn’t even think anyone cared enough to dedicate a post to him. Of course, he was doing exceptionally well in the last few races, and he’d talked with some fans outside the race track, but it didn’t cross his mind just how many of them were this interested in him.

Before he could stop himself, he started scrolling through his mentions, and the trending ‘British GP 2010’ topic.

@KubicaWDC

So many Sauber points! Best race of the season

@inmygabiphase

P7, P6, P5… We're getting a podium next race I can feel it

@Ferrari97

 Never been so proud to be Brazilian after Gabi P5

@F0rmulaGeek

Gabriel has to be the best rookie after today

@RBpropagandist

GB P5 best day of my life

@AlonsoHomeGP

Fernando out of the points so his son had to get some

It was honestly kind of heartwarming to see all the praise, and Gabi found himself screenshotting a few of the posts for later. Maybe he’ll rub it in to Vitaly a bit and make him throw another party.

This one he’ll actually enjoy properly, and he’ll make Nico come with him. He could dance with Nico and put his hands on his waist or hold his face, and they could get tipsy and sit out on some hotel balcony for air, and maybe he’d scoot a little closer until their hands touched, and Nico would lean in just enough for him to…

Gabi forced himself to pause that thought before he reached a point he regretted and wouldn’t be able to look Nico in the eye for the entire flight. Which, he should probably go get ready for.

He packed his belongings back into his suitcase, changing into some warm clothes before heading out and getting a taxi to drive him to the airport.

His leg bounced in the passenger’s seat the entire way there, unable to stop thinking about the flight. He’d get to sit next to Nico again and talk and laugh like he wished he could do every second of the day. God, he missed him.

He would have probably let Nico occupy his mind for the entire ride if not for the driver interrupting his daydreaming, asking, “Nervous for your flight?”

Gabi blinked, not having expected her to address him, and slowly shook his head. “Uh, not really, no.”

”Ah. Something else, then?” She questioned, tone light with small talk that Gabi wasn’t really in the mood for, but was too polite to reject. “Are you going to meet your girlfriend?”

He shifted uncomfortably at the question. Good thing she didn’t ask about a boyfriend, or he wouldn’t be sure how to answer it. “No, no, I don’t have one. Just… flying with a friend.”

”Shame, a pretty guy like you could get anyone you want.”

If he felt uneasy before, now he was contemplating asking her to stop on the side of the road and let him off.

He didn’t get flirted with a lot, except jokingly, and he wasn’t sure how to take it when it was from someone he wasn't interested in. No offence to the driver, but if there was anyone he would consider dating, well, it hurt to admit it to himself, so he’d rather not finish the thought.

However, it didn’t seem like she knew who he was, and no matter what he said, he’d be out of the car in ten or so minutes anyway. He didn’t get much of a chance to talk to people who didn’t know about Formula One, and he couldn’t help but wonder how she would react if he told her the truth.

He should probably start thinking twice before making decisions, but it doesn’t hurt to burn a bridge with a stranger.

”Well, I don’t swing that way, but thank you.” He excused, which wasn’t the full truth, but was an easy dismissal. His sexuality wasn't the business of someone he had just met, anyway.

The shift in the girl’s expression was immediate; soft and easygoing eyes turning confused, the smile wiped off her face.

He immediately regretted saying that.

”Don’t tell me you’re one of those,” She said, emphasising the last word like she was talking about a crime.

”Ah, no, no, I was joking,” Gabi quickly backtracked, glad that the girl had to look at the road instead of his pinkish face. “Of course I’m not.”

It almost hurt him to watch how quickly she relaxed again. “You almost scared me for a moment there. I wouldn’t want to waste half an hour on a ride for a fag.”

As soon as Gabi was out of the car, he rushed to the closest bathroom in the airport and washed his face until the pain of scrubbing it was the only thing on his mind. He felt disgusting, like there was something wrong with him that he had to tear away. To keep scrubbing his face until it hurt to touch it.

He only stopped when Rubens called to ask where he was, and he dried his face before going to meet up with the two Williams drivers.

He hoped it wasn’t too obvious that he wasn’t in a good state of mind, but neither of them questioned it, even if the hug Nico gave him was a little tighter than he expected. He was more than thankful for the contact, though, and felt a lot better dozing off against Nico’s side on the plane.

When they got off the plane, Gabriel still felt a little dazed, but Nico staying by his side helped a lot. He practically clung to his arm while they walked through the German airport, trusting the other to know where to go.

He was almost hoping that by staying with Nico, he was safe, and didn’t need to think about what happened. About the fact that it could very well happen again. About the fact that he couldn’t stop it from happening again.

Nico didn’t seem to mind it, thankfully. He looked at Gabi the same way as he always did, with those big, brown eyes that held nothing but affection. It filled Gabi’s chest with a much more pleasant feeling.

They did part eventually, though that was only because a group of people came and ushered Nico into their arms, screaming and cheering like he’d just gotten his first win. He stood next to Rubens as he watched Nico get smothered with praise, smiling a little.

”I didn’t know Germans were this crazy about their drivers,” he joked quietly.

Rubens only smiled, “Just wait until you see Vettel with his family.”

He was about to question his choice of words when Nico disconnected himself from the group in favour of walking up to Gabi and grabbing his arm, pulling him closer. “This is Gabriel,” he introduced him, along with a few words in German he couldn’t understand.

The three people, an older couple and a blonde girl who looked about their age. They were all speaking in rapid German, both to him, Nico, and now Rubens. It took him until Nico turned his gaze to him expectantly before he realised that this was Nico’s family.

Nico’s family. He was meeting his parents, and what was probably his sister.

Why wasn’t he saying anything? They probably think he’s being rude. He needs to do something.

Gabi offered his best smile, awkwardly extending one of his hands to Nico’s father, coaching himself internally to not mess this up under any circumstances. “Hello,” he greeted, “Like he said, I’m Gabriel. Nico’s… um, yeah.”

Oh god. Why did he have to say it like that? He could have just not added the last part, and now he looks like an idiot.

But Nico’s father shook his hand all the same. His hand and grip were stronger than Gabi’s, but his smile was welcoming. “Hello, Gabi. Nice to finally meet you. I’m Klaus, Nico’s father.”

He didn’t have to ask what he meant by ‘finally’, as Nico’s mother interrupted the moment by pulling him into a hug he made haste to return. “Hallo, Gabi,” she greeted.

The two smiled at him as Klaus continued, “This is Susanne, my wife. She doesn’t speak much English, but she’s just as happy to see you.”

“Well, thank you,” he chuckled awkwardly, trying to keep his attention on them instead of how excited Nico looked. All he wanted to do was grab that adorable face and kiss him stupid, but that was a terrible idea in front of his parents. He doesn’t want another accident like the one he had just hours earlier, after all.

Next, the other woman turned to him, proving his suspicion correct as she greeted, “Hi Gabi, I’m Stephanie. Nico’s sister.” Her accent was much softer than her parents’s, and she had a knowing glint to her eye whenever she looked at Gabi that made him feel like he was missing something.

He tried to drown out the feeling with the next few minutes of small talk as Nico’s parents greeted Rubens, who, apparently, they knew well, and nodded along as the Hulkenbergs spoke with one another, switching between German and English at moments that seemed completely random to him.

At some point, Susanne pointed at him, saying something that made Nico turn slightly red in the face, leaving Gabi confused while everyone else laughed. He asked Nico what it was, but he brushed it off with a “Just… nothing important,” which Gabi didn’t completely buy, but he let it go.

Before parting ways, Gabi and Rubens each going to fetch an Uber ride for themselves while Nico left with his family, Stephanie pulled Gabi aside.

”I know you need to go, so I’ll keep it short,” she said, hiding her mouth behind her hand like a kindergartener telling a secret, “We’re gonna spend a lot of time with Nico, but mom and dad and I won’t be home on Wednesday night. You have the house to yourselves.”

She didn’t elaborate, just smirked and walked away to catch up with the rest of her family.

Gabi had to close his eyes for a few seconds to get his breathing in check.

Against his better judgment, Gabriel found himself at the door to the Hulkenberg house on Wednesday evening after being unable to think of anything but Nico the entire day.

Which wasn’t fully his fault, as Nico was the one to invite him in the first place with an offer to watch Titanic. It was an odd movie choice for a date, which Gabi had to remind himself multiple times that this wasn’t.

It’s just a meetup between friends. Like all their other interactions have been. And no matter how Nico looks or talks to him, it will be just that.

Yet he still found himself fussing over what he should wear and when he should arrive, nervously getting coached by Bruno over a FaceTime call over every little detail. It felt entirely unnecessary to be this stressed for a movie night, especially when it wasn’t their first.

But this will be his first time in Nico’s house. And he really wanted it to go well.

This time, he didn’t make the mistake of speaking to the cab driver and scrolled on his phone instead in hopes of getting his mind to relax. The driver didn’t try to speak to him, thankfully, and he left him a fine tip in return.

The ride felt so long, but the moment his feet were on the soil in front of Nico’s house, it felt much too short.

He spent around three minutes pacing around until the agreed-upon time came, before walking towards the door and forcing himself to knock.

Barely a second passed before the door swung open, making Gabi take a hurried step back as Nico appeared in the doorway.

”Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to open it so fast, he quickly excused, holding the door wide and gesturing for Gabi to enter.

Nico wore a white button-up shirt, the cuffs of his sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal a bit of his forearms without showing too much skin. A pair of black jeans hugged his legs just right, held up by a belt around his hips. His hair coated his face in that effortless way that looked too good to be intentional, and he wore a sheepish smile that failed to hide his excitement.

But most notably, there was a pair of glasses resting on his nose, which immediately swept all of Gabi’s nerves away as he walked up to him and gently tugged the glasses down Nico’s nose.

”You never told me you had four eyes,” he teased, watching Nico chuckle nervously before repositioning his glasses.

”Well, I usually wear contacts, but I got a bit lazy today.”

Gabi risked a glance up and down the other man, just for a moment, before turning to walk inside the house. “You look pretty good for someone who ‘got a bit lazy’.”

The house was large with warm colours all over, but clearly well-lived in. There were photos hung of Nico, his parents, his sister, and a white Pomeranian he guessed was their dog, all over the walls. The entrance opened into a large space connecting to the living area that the two of them walked to, stopping right before the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

The living room had a well-sized TV, and in front of it sat a cozy sofa filled with blankets and pillows. The whole house looked squeaky clean and well organised, which Gabi couldn’t help but think might have been for him.

He made himself comfortable on the sofa while Nico got the television running, explaining something about the brand-new technology it uses, which Gabi was pretty should have been entirely outdated by 2025. But it wasn’t hard to fake being impressed when he had Nico Hulkenberg looking like a prince in front of him.

After putting on the movie, Nico turned off the lights in the room and sat down next to Gabi.

It took about three minutes before they were right up against each other, one small scooch closer at a time. Eventually, Nico reached over to grab the remote next to Gabi for a completely unnecessary volume change, and kept his arm sprawled behind Gabi like it belonged there.

That position had to be doing irreparable damage to his heart from how fast it was going, but Gabi managed to keep himself in check for just a little longer. He slowly exhaled, letting himself lean back against Nico’s arm, waiting for him ever so patiently to laugh it off or push him away or move to another spot or do something, anything, to prove to Gabi that all of his was just in his head.

Instead, they stayed silent through thirty minutes of the movie, none of which Gabi had paid any attention to. He knew the plot by heart, although he doubted there’d be any room there for anyone but Nico if this went on any longer.

During one of the scenes where the instrumental part of ‘My Heart Will Go On’ played, Gabi found himself humming along, and smiled a bit when he noticed Nico do the same.

”You like that song?” Nico whispered after the clip ended, voice hushed like they were interrupting a movie for other watchers. It was an empty question, really. Of course Gabi liked the song if he hummed along to it.

”Obviously,” he answered, mirroring Nico’s quiet tone, “Anyone would. You sound like you just want me to talk.”

”Maybe I do,” Nico countered playfully.

The chill that went down Gabi’s spine at those words was entirely uncalled for and made him turn his head on Nico’s arm to look at him.

Nico was staring at him.

He had that same soft, loving expression on, the one that Gabi has almost grown used to by now. His heart melted a little more every time he saw it.

He wondered if Nico ever noticed just how much he stared at him back.

”Well, what do you want me to say?”

There was a pause. A silence that allowed for the noise of the movie to drift back in. Like an invitation for the film to take their attention away again, an opt-out for any one of them that wanted to stop this. A step back they could take. A precaution just before crossing the line.

But neither of them broke eye contact.

And Nico was the first to break the silence, tone just a little more serious than before.

”What would you do if I kissed you right now?”

And, just as he heard those words, Gabi felt everything in his mind click into place.

“You little bastard,” he accused, but his tone was anything but mad as he grabbed Nico by the collar of that shirt he’d been waiting to crumple up the entire night and finally, finally got to kiss that stupidly charming smirk off his face.

The surprised noise Nico let out at the gesture was adorable, and so was the way his hands shot up to hold Gabi’s face as he returned the kiss just as eagerly.

Oh god. This was really happening. And fuck, it felt amazing.

It was wrong. Everything they were doing, hell, everything they had been doing for the past god knows how long was wrong on so many levels.

But the only thing Gabi cared about at that moment was that Nico was kissing him, kissing him, and it was the best thing he’s ever felt in his life.

Their mouths moved together with a kind of flow that made it impossible to believe they weren't one and the same. Gabi’s hand moved to Nico’s back, supporting him while he adjusted himself to fully face Nico, wanting to feel every inch of that beautiful body against himself.

The kiss was fast, hungry, and passionate, months of unresolved tension finally being addressed in one gesture that was louder than any words could be. Gabi let his free hand trail down Nico’s front, feeling the toned muscle under his palms, as Nico pulled him in closer. The movie kept playing in the background, now long forgotten between kisses and panting breaths.

Gabi only stopped the movement of his hand when he reached Nico’s belt, hesitating for just a moment as he rested his hand against it.

Was he really going to do this? Was he really going to let this happen, to lie to Nico like this, to let everything they’d built up get ruined just because of his dirty mind? How does he even know this means anything to Nico? Was he really letting himself throw it all away just for that high?

Nico must have noticed he stopped moving, as he pulled away, one hand still tangled up in Gabi’s hair while he leaned against the other.

That silence again, this time filled with heavy breaths and clothes shuffling.

”I,” Nico breathed, making something drop in Gabi’s chest.

However, instead of taking the out and pushing him away, he looked into Gabi’s eyes again. “My parents will kill me tomorrow if we make a mess of the couch, we- let’s take this to my room.”

Gabi swallowed thickly.

He was absolutely going to throw it all away for this.

Gabriel slowly blinked his eyes open, the realisation of morning waking him up despite the noticeable lack of an alarm clock to announce it.

The blanket was heavy, comfortable to the point that he debated staying in for just a while longer until his alarm blasted ‘Call Me Maybe’ loud enough for him to give up on sleep. He was so warm, it was almost a wonder that hotel sheets could be this comfortable.

It took him about twenty more seconds to remember that the reason for that is that the sheets are, in fact, not cheap hotel material, and instead belong to a bedroom.

And the reason the blanket felt so heavy is that there was an arm between it and his body. Draped over his waist like it was a part of him. A warm body pressed into his side, the silent rise and fall of a chest against his ribs having served a lullaby for the past god-knows how long that he’s been lying there.

There, so comfortably, cuddled up with Nico in a bed that probably held more childhood memories than he could ever imagine.

That thought finally snapped him out of the still half-asleep daze he was stuck in, finally taking in the situation as it was.

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no. This couldn’t be happening.

One glance down and the shift of the sheets against his skin told him that he didn’t have any clothes on, and by the feel of it, neither did Nico.

Nico Hulkenberg. Sleeping next to him. Naked. After everything that happened the day before. Everything he let happen, knowing that he was lying to Nico about who he was every step of the way. Knowing full well that Nico didn’t.

He lied to him. And here he was, cuddled up in Nico’s bed like he hadn’t just slept with a man nearly twice his age. Well, a man who was nearly twice his age, and was now barely any older than him.

Oh god, he’d slept with Nico.

Gabi didn’t dare move, but he could feel his face darkening as the memories filled his mind. The first kiss, that beautiful first kiss they shared. The look on Nico’s face when Gabi kissed back. Those warm hands on his face, shoulders, chest, legs, everywhere.

This is wrong. This is utterly, completely wrong. Why was he still here? How did he let himself do this?

Nico was still sleeping soundly, and hopefully will be for a while longer. At least until Gabi gets his thoughts in order. He really didn’t want to think right now, but he owed it to Nico.

He took a shuddering breath before slowly slipping Nico’s arm off of him, sliding out of the blanket until his feet were on the floor again. He searched for his clothes, finding a few scattered around the floor, quickly putting them on as silently as he could before walking towards the door.

It wouldn’t be long before Nico woke up; he knew he didn’t sleep that many hours after all. Or did he? 2025 Nico didn’t, but this Nico could. He was a whole other person, in a way.

And yet, Gabi knew that he was just telling himself that to make him feel better.

He has to tell him. He can’t stand this.

And yet, that peaceful look on Nico’s sleeping face, so young and sweet, made him reconsider it.

This is wrong on so many levels.

And yet, it was hours too early and years too late to say anything about it.

He carefully opened the door, making sure not to make a sound, closing it behind him before starting to walk around the house.

He told himself he was searching for the exit, yet he made a stop in the living room to search for his phone. It was thrown somewhere on the couch and had a few notifications that he didn’t bother checking. He only glanced at the screen briefly to check the time.

Four in the morning. Great.

The next stop on the journey to the door was the kitchen, making a cup of coffee for himself while waiting for Nico to wake up.

He didn’t want to think. He just drank the bitter flavour while his eyes stayed fixated on a window outside, showing the sun rise and gently waking up the town. Germany really was a beautiful place. He should make Nico give him that tour.

Gabi didn’t even have the energy to scold himself for that thought. He finished the coffee quicker than he planned, then stared at the empty mug and considered his options.

He didn’t know what to say when Nico woke up and joined him. He didn’t even know if Nico would be happy to see him or just confused as to why he was still there. Was this serious, or was he just overthinking it? Was Nico still his to kiss? His to touch? Just… his?

He can’t expect to stop those thoughts if he stays in that house. With a quiet sigh, he pushed off the chair and opened his phone again, just then realising he didn’t know what address to call an Uber for. Looks like he’ll be doing a bit of walking, then.

Gabriel wasn’t avoiding Nico per se; he just needed to put some distance between them. He can’t let something like that happen again. Not when Nico thinks he’s just this normal guy, not when he doesn’t know just how much Gabi really knows about him. Not when he might take that news just as badly as that driver took his sexuality.

It was the first time in years that Gabi let his mood influence his driving, and he got knocked out in Q1. He didn’t even have the energy in him to try. What does it matter? He shouldn’t even be here in the first place. Is he not allowed to have bad days? The team sure wouldn’t like it, but he hardly had it in him to care by now. Is it selfish? Maybe. But he was really not looking forward to the race.

To the on-track action itself, maybe. But absolutely not to the cool-down room and interviews, and anywhere he might bump into Nico and have to have that awful conversation that made his head ache.

Even Amir seemed to notice something was wrong, checking if Gabi wasn’t feeling well or if there was something wrong with the car, but he dismissed it.

He wished he could just delete everything about his 2025 self and start over. Maybe travel back in time even further, before Nico was even born, so he wouldn’t have to go through any of this.

It’s really fucking weird that he could have slept with a man who wasn’t even born at the time.

God, why did he have to do this to himself…

While waiting for the second practice to start, Gabi found himself pacing around his driver's room, mind spiralling into panic without his consent.

He had to find a way to fix this. He had to tell Nico, one way or another. He can’t let things go on like this without him knowing. This is wrong. It felt just like the time he met Charles, that nauseous feeling clouding up his mind until it almost hurt to think so much. He thought he had the situation figured out, but the more he drowned into it, the more messy it seemed to get.

Nico used Bruno’s line. Bruno was playing wingman, trying to get them together, so this was his fault, wasn’t it? But Bruno didn’t know why they couldn’t be together. He doesn’t know Gabi isn’t like them. He was just trying to be a good friend.

Nico clearly wanted it. He wanted something to happen between them, so he invited Gabi over that time and so many others before. He remembered his favourite movies and introduced him to his family. For Christ’s sake, he met Nico’s parents. He shook his father’s hand while lying directly to his face.

He is so fucking stupid. How could he let this happen? He was more than aware that, by signing the contract with Kick Sauber, he was agreeing not to pursue any romantic relationships for the rest of his career. He didn’t need them, he told himself. He had racing.

But now he also had Nico.

Well, that was an overstatement. He didn’t 'have’ Nico. Nico didn’t belong to him, and they weren’t together. They hooked up one time, so what?

Gabi’s fingers were curled into his hair, like the pressure on his head would make his mind calm down. He felt his heart start to go faster, but not in that pleasant way it did around Nico. Like he was actively in danger and had to protect himself.

He nearly jumped when he heard a knock on his door, having to take a moment to compose himself as he stared at the door. It rang a familiar beat of urgency, one that could only indicate very few people.

No, no, no. He can’t have this conversation right now. Not like this. His eyes flew around the room; there was a small window, one he could probably climb out of if he tried. He can hide under the bed, probably not in the closet, and worst-case scenario, he can bolt out the door if needed.

Another knock. This time, firmer. “Gabriel, are you there?”

That wasn’t Nico’s voice.

He hesitatingly approached the door, unlocking it before cracking it open just enough to see who was on the other side.

Pedro.

”Are you okay?” Pedro asked after a moment, making Gabi wish he had a mirror to see how much of a mess he looked like. 

“Um, yeah, no, I just… I’m fine, yes.” He tried, waving his hands dismissively.

Pedro looked unconvinced, looking at him with an expression a little too concerned for Gabi to feel calm about. Eventually, he spoke again, not trying to walk inside the room or open the door any further.

”I know you dislike me,” he said, tone blunt but truthful, “I haven’t been easy on you, so I don’t blame you for it. But I can tell something is wrong. You don’t need to tell me what it is, but I want to make sure you’re doing alright. As a teammate.”

Gabi slowly nodded. He wasn’t sure where this change of heart was coming from, but he did appreciate it. “Was it that obvious?” He settled on saying, trying to deflect his emotions with humour.

”A little. You’ve been avoiding everyone all day.”

Oh. Well, that was intentional, so he shouldn’t be surprised they noticed.

Pedro continued, “Hulkenberg stopped by a few minutes ago to check on you, too, but I told him you were busy. He’s probably still nearby, I can let him in if you want to talk to him.”

Gabi couldn’t help but wonder if the last time Pedro made Nico wait outside for him, which he dismissed as rudeness, was Pedro’s way of making sure he didn’t have to talk to anyone he didn’t want to.

Maybe he wasn’t as malicious as Gabi thought.

”Look, Pedro, I…” he hesitated, staring at the other man’s eyes. He swallowed. “Can I ask you something?”

Pedro looked a bit surprised, and Gabi didn’t blame him. But he still nodded. “Yeah, yes you can.”

”Can you call my papai? Please?”

As soon as Fernando arrived, Gabi was a sobbing mess in his arms. He couldn’t take it any longer. The weight of everything he had been holding in had only snowballed with every day he carried it, until he felt like he was about to break.

He hung onto Fernando as tightly as he could, arms wrapped around his middle and face buried into his shoulder. It was somewhat uncomfortable, as he had to lean his back at a weird angle because of how much taller he was, but Fernando didn’t seem to mind. He rubbed slow circles into his back until Gabi’s sobs turned to quiet sniffles and didn’t let go of him for a second.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but eventually Fernando spoke. He mentally prepared himself for the questions, the demands, the protective rage he was used to seeing in Fernando whenever he was heard.

However, Fernando’s voice was gentle when he asked, “Do you want to sit down?”

Gabi nodded stiffly, not trusting his voice not to break.

They detached only for a moment, Gabi doing his best not to tremble as he sat down on the small but comfortable sofa in the corner of the room, feeling Fernando’s weight as he sat down next to him. He leaned on the other man again, desperate for any physical contact, any reminder that he wasn’t alone.

Fernando’s hand was on his back again, keeping him steady. Gabi closed his eyes when he heard the other speak up again.

”Do you want to talk?”

Gabi shook his head.

A moment of silence passed. “Do you want me to get Nico?”

His eyes shot open, feeling a spike of panic at the mention of that name. “No, no I- don’t,” he sputtered, shifting on the couch. He really didn’t want to face Nico like this; he doesn’t think he can stand it any longer without telling him.

Fernando nodded, his grip around Gabi tightening just slightly. “Is okay. I’m not getting Nico. I’m not leaving.”

The silence that followed was uneasy to the point that Gabi debated whether he should break it. But Fernando took that step again for him. He was so lucky to have him.

”Did you fight?”

Not quite, he wanted to say, but instead answered, “Um, no. It’s… something else.”

Fernando nodded with a surprising amount of patience. “That’s okay. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

”I, no, it’s not that.” He protested, making sure his breathing was in check before continuing. “I just… You know how sometimes you want someone to know something, but you don’t wanna tell it?”

”Are you scared I’ll be mad at you?”

”Not mad. Just…” Gabi ran a hand through his hair, looking away. “You’ll think I’m crazy.”

He wasn’t even sure what he was talking about at this point.

”Gabi, mijo, you are crazy,” Fernando sighed fondly, “You have to be insane to be a Formula One driver. Trust me, there’s nothing you can say that will make me think you’re crazy crazy.”

Gabi stared at him. At that caring, patient look that he’d only ever seen on Fernando a few times. The way his hand rested on his back, like it would always be there to support him, no matter who he is or where he’s from or what he’s done.

He should learn not to tell people things so easily.

But Fernando Alonso wasn’t just ‘people’.

Gabi closed his eyes. “I’m from the future.”

Fernando nodded. “Mhm.”

That… wasn’t what he expected. He reluctantly opened his eyes, squinting at Fernando’s unchanged face. It was almost like he didn’t even say anything. The hell kind of reaction is that?

”What is that supposed to mean?”

”I’m an adult, mijo, I can handle hypotheticals.”

Gabi frowned. “It’s not a hypothetical. I’m serious.” He insisted, tone determined like his nose wasn’t still crimson from crying earlier. ”I was born in 2004. I should be a little kid right now. Actually, I-I didn’t even get into F1 until 2025, which is fifteen fucking years from now, and…”

”Hey, hey, it’s okay, alright? First of all, calm down,” Fernando instructed, his hand moving to wrap around Gabi’s shoulders in a side hug. “And take it one thing at a time. How, exactly, are you ‘from the future’?”

”I, well…” Gabi took a deep breath, staring at the ceiling like it would help him recall everything. 

“At the end of the 2024 season, I was in F2, and I won it in my first year. But there were six seats open in the F1 grid and they all had people they were going to take, and I didn’t want to wait until McLaren has a seat open up in a bajillion years, so I signed a contract with one of Sauber’s partners that were experimenting with time travel, that I would do the 2025 season then go back to 2010 to win the team a championship.”

By the end of it, he felt like a madman trying to explain his delusions to a doctor. Fernando did start to look surprised, like he had initially expected, but didn’t let it reach his tone. “I… wow. If all that’s real, I’d be really impressed we found time travel in just fifteen years.”

“Yeah, well, it is. I don’t really know how I could prove it, but I know the next fifteen world champions, if that helps.”

Fernando’s lips twitched at that, and he ruffled Gabi’s hair. “Don’t go around telling people the future, would you? Especially not the champions. They'll get cocky and mess up their wins.”

Gabi found himself finally smiling back. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Is that what had you so stressed? Because if it is, it’s only a good thing, really. You were so good in 2025 that they had to send you back to take on bigger challenges, no?”

“I guess,” He muttered, leaning his head back against the couch. He felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest, like he could finally breathe properly again. Honestly, he was exhausted, and probably feeling a little too relaxed to filter his words properly. “But no, that wasn’t everything. I was just kind of stressed because I kind of… uh,” he paused to look at Fernando again, debating his words. “Uh, a few days ago, when I just got to Germany…”

“You what? Went back in time again?” Fernando asked, still acting like the situation was hypothetical, but Gabi couldn’t blame him. He would have acted the same way in Fernando’s place.

“No, no, I just,” He turned his head away, “Kind of slept with Nico.”

A pause.

Gabi was already regretting even saying anything, feeling his face heat up. It didn’t help that Fernando looked like he was holding back laughter instead of being surprised. Why wasn’t he surprised?

“I see,” Fernando hummed in amusement, “And why is that making you stressed?”

Well, here goes nothing. “He was my teammate,” he explained curtly, fidgeting with his hands. “Back in 2025. He doesn’t know that I knew him. That I know a him that’s only gonna exist in fifteen years. It feels really creepy, like I’m lying to him. I don’t want to lie to him.”

”Tell him then.”

”It’s not that simple,” Gabi protested, now feeling childish at how calm Fernando was being. There was no way he believed him, but at least he was entertaining the conversation. “I, he’s not gonna believe me. There’s no way. And he’ll be mad that I only told him now, I really should have told him sooner.”

”Why would he be mad?” Fernando inquired.

”I don’t know,” Gabi whined, frustrated at his own emotions. “I’d be mad if I were him.”

”You wouldn’t be.”

Gabi frowned, because Fernando was right. He would be much more fascinated than annoyed, and would probably have a million questions about his future self. But there was no way Nico would share that sentiment.

”Maybe not,” he huffed, accepting it, “But I don’t know how he will react.” And that scared him, he wanted to add, but didn’t have it in him to admit that.

Fernando nodded slowly, taking in the information. “What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

Gabi furrowed his brows, confused at the question, but considered it for a moment before answering. “He’ll… he won’t believe me, and he’ll think I’m making things up, and that I just got together with him once and now we’re… that it’s nothing for me. Or, or he’ll actually believe me, but think I’m a creep for lying about it and, and I don’t know what.”

”If you’re absolutely sure neither of these would happen, would you tell him?”

Gabi glanced up to meet Fernando’s patient gaze, slowly nodding.

Fernando smiled. “When you love someone, you’ll understand that sometimes you need to lie. If he loves you, that won’t happen.”

”And what if he doesn’t?”

”You have all the time in the world to make sure that he does, no? Then why worry?”

Since his karting days, Gabriel has liked to approach races with a clear mind. He’d sit down and let himself focus on nothing but the feeling of the controls under his hands, the pedals under his feet and the machine surrounding him. It let him think like the car, he once told Enzo, even if it got him rightfully laughed at.

That’s how he performed optimally. Worry-free, and in sync with the car.

To this race, though, he came with his head a little too empty, and it cost him the very important factor of race intelligence. It was a silly mistake, one that Fernando warned him constantly to avoid; keep your head in the game. Race out of passion, not out of instinct.

Gabi could usually remember every corner of the race for enough time to break it down with Amir over a call or on the sim, but this race just… came and went. He could barely remember a single thing that happened, and hardly made any overtakes either.

”That’s P16,” Amir informed him as he crossed the finish line, even if it had felt like he barely had time to blink between it and the start of the race. “You did well today, alright?”

Gabi wasn’t entirely convinced, but didn’t have it in him to argue.

When the race finished, he didn’t even stop at the cooldown room; instead, going straight to the paddock and locking himself in his room again. He felt like he had gotten lost somewhere in time and space and couldn’t find his footing.

It was an awful thing to know how to make things better, but being unable to. Because it wasn’t the right time, it wasn’t the right place, and he wasn’t in the right headspace.

He nearly groaned at the sound of a knock at his door, carefully picking himself off the wall and walking to open it. He didn’t have to ask who it was, since it sounded like an uneven, hesitant rhythm, and Nico always made a little drum beat when he knocked.

”You need anything?” Gabi asked, trying to force on a confused smile to hide how much he just wanted to be left alone.

Amir looked apologetic, not trying to step inside, but just stood there with a sheepish smile. “No, no, I just wanted to say sorry for today.” He paused before clarifying, “For the race. You were taking things more slowly, which is good, and I should have helped more instead of letting you figure it out.”

Gabi stared at him, unsure if he heard that right. Did he think this was his fault? Gabi was clearly the one having a bad day, bad few days, actually. Pedro saw it, and everyone else most likely did too.

”Don’t apologise! It’s not on you,” He quickly said, trying to clear the situation up. “I was a little out of it today. I should have focused more, but it’s really not on you.”

Amir shook his head, still refusing to accept it. “I know, but my job is to adjust to you, not the other way. I should have tried to help with whatever’s going on instead of being silent like that.”

So now he has to feel bad for what happened with Nico and for making his engineer think he ruined their race? Absolutely not. There’s more than enough on his plate already. Gabi took a breath.

”It’s not like that,” He said, leaning forward for a moment to check if anyone was around before settling his gaze back on Amir. “It’s not a racing thing. I just had… a bad day. Bad weekend. It’s not on you, okay?”

The explanation was finally accepted by Amir, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he sighed. “Alright, alright. Sorry, I think the consistent point scoring was weighing a bit on me.”

Gabi cracked a little smile at that. He could absolutely relate. “Well, if everyone were always consistent, we’d probably be stuck in the same position every race.”

That got a little laugh out of both of them, and Gabi was feeling a bit cheered up.

”You can talk to me, you know,” Amir then said, “About whatever’s going on. You don’t have to, of course, but just know that I’m here if you need it.”

”I know, I know,” Gabi assured, even if it was refreshing to hear. “I just, it’s a little complicated. The kind of things you need to figure out between you and yourself, you know?” He bit his cheek, debating if he should say the rest, then added in a quieter tone, “Or, like, between you and your partner.”

Amir didn’t pry any further, just nodded and wished him luck before leaving.

Even if, all in all, he hadn’t told him much, he did feel relieved that the explanation was accepted without any judgment. If he closed his eyes, just for a moment, he could almost feel normal. Like this was a common issue people face, like the odds were in his favour, and like people would understand what he’s going through.

Well, Fernando did. At least he seemed to. And even if he still wasn’t completely sure about it, that was the best solution he had.

He can’t control the outcome; he’d learned that lesson long ago, and life seems to keep trying to teach it to him over and over. He can’t pray and rely on luck, because that never works out in his favour.

So is that really all he can do? Wait?

Gabi leaned his head back against the door and sighed silently.  He has the answer, so why does he keep feeling like he’s losing? Lost the race, lost Nico, lost his friends whom he’s been too caught up in himself to talk to, and possibly lost his own sanity. It can’t be the only way to fix this.

He can’t just stand here and wait ever so patiently until Nico gives him a nonexistent sign, if he isn’t gone for good already.

And, like a bolt of lightning, it hit him.

What if Nico is doing the same, and just waiting for him to come back around? 

Chapter Text

Gabriel spent the days he had left in Germany, before the Hungarian Grand Prix, making a meticulous, foolproof plan to talk to Nico.

There was absolutely no room for messing this up. One wrong word and it’s over. One confession too early could overwhelm him and ruin it all. One mistake, so small it could seem irrelevant, could make Gabi regret ever asking Enzo to try his go-kart all those years ago in the first place.

He didn’t text Nico that entire time.

It almost felt like torture. He was so used to chatting every day, late-night video calls and text exchanges brightening his day to the point he couldn’t imagine living without them. And here he was, failing to do just that.

He was checking his phone every few minutes, like that name would magically appear with an unread notification. But as much as he hoped, he knew it wouldn’t. Either Nico was mad at him, and this was all bound to fail anyway, or he was waiting for Gabi to make the first move.

Which he planned to. He really, really did.

He just needed time.

Since he wasn’t flying with Rubens this time, he had to rely on Sauber’s scheduled flights, which were less than ideal in most cases, an example of being this one. They had booked tickets for Thursday, barely in time for him to get enough sleep before practice. Just great.

It also meant that he was stuck in Germany for longer than he wanted to, and the risk of running into Nico kept him stuck in his hotel.

He didn’t think anyone would notice; Fernando did, of course, but at least he knew the reason. He didn’t want to explain it to anyone else, nor did he think he would have to.

He didn’t open the rookie’s group chat; he didn’t want to. It kept flooding with messages, even getting a few mentions, but he just marked it as read and moved on.

The hotel had good food, plenty of movies, and everything he needed to just rot in bed all day and try not to die of boredom. And he planned to do exactly that when someone knocked on his door. Room service already stopped by earlier that day, even though his room looked like a mess with clothes on the floor and his suitcase left open like he had no shame. He groggily forced himself out of bed, still wearing clothes from two days ago, and pulled the door open with a tired, “What is it?”

Through his squinted eyes at the bright light outside the room, he could make out Vitaly and Sebastian standing outside, holding a six-pack of beer from a brand he couldn’t recognise with hopeful smiles on their face.

”Morning, mate,” Vitaly joked, gesturing to Gabi’s face. “Did we wake you?”

”Pretty much,” Gabi lied, before scolding himself for that tone of voice. He shouldn’t be grumpy right now, especially not when his friends were visiting. He let out a breath, rubbing his eyes clear. “You need anything?”

”Came to do a wellness check, since someone wasn’t responding in the group chat.” Vitaly joked, inviting himself inside. Gabi didn’t resist; if anything, he appreciated the company. He didn’t like to admit to himself that he could get lonely sometimes, but it was a huge breath of relief to have them here.

Sebastien followed suit, his smile a bit gentler. “You had a few of us pretty worried, mate. You’d think someone who’s always on his phone would answer immediately, after all. I told Vitaly it wasn’t a big deal, but then you- ow, what?“ he cut himself off when Vitaly pushed his shoulder, leaving Gabi with a dreadful feeling that he really didn’t want to face.

So instead, he directed his attention to the beers, asking, “Are these part of the wellness check too?”

And in a second, Vitaly was back to smiles and jokes, and Sebastien tried, and failed when they started drinking, to make their visit sound casual. It did cheer Gabi up a little to know that they cared enough to check on him when he wasn’t doing well. He couldn’t quite tell whose suggestion it was to come, but he was surprised that Bruno didn’t show up.

When he asked about it, halfway through his second beer, Sebastien laughed. “It’s not a group chat thing, I just saw you weren’t saying much and told Vitaly we should check on you.”

He wasn’t sure why, but he was surprised that Sebastien cared about him to the point of noticing his absence. Gabi wasn’t all that close with him, even if they were on good terms, but to think he would go out of his way to get Vitaly and find Gabi’s hotel, all just to make sure he was doing well? God, he loved these guys.

While he waited for the days to pass, even now with Vitaly and Sebastien dragging him out of the hotel every day, it felt like Thursday was taking forever to come. But when it was finally time for the flight, he was hit with the sharp feeling of reality.

He was going to Hungary. He was going to talk to Nico and finally get all of this settled. He had to say goodbye to this easy way of living and get back in that car, face those people again, and go through everything he’s been avoiding thinking about.

He couldn’t sleep on the flight. Pedro sat in the row next to him, looking equally bothered, and Gabi couldn’t help but scoff at the sight. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking this, but he wished he could have Pedro’s problems instead of his. No secrets lying on his shoulders, no world he isn’t supposed to be in, and no Nico to ruin his relationship with over these feelings.

To try and pass the time, he watched Titanic on the flight, and cried before the tragedy could even hit, just because of the memories that movie now held. He ruined it because he just had to watch it with Nico, didn’t he?

Gabriel was in the car. He was driving. His hands were clutching the wheel, body leaning into the turns as he slowed through them. His body was racing. But his head wasn’t.

“How’s the setup?” Amir asked over the radio, waiting patiently for input that Gabi did not want to give.

Honestly, he couldn’t tell. The car felt fine; it wasn’t fantastic, but it wasn’t bad either. He could deal with this. He could get points, he could do the bare minimum he expected from himself and not fuck up the race like he had his personal life.

He always told himself that he had racing to come back to. When things were tough in school as a child, he had karting to distract him. When money was a little tight at home, he could do his best in a competition and try to help out. When he overheard Enzo telling his friends he was finally going to quit racing to let his little brother succeed him, he could put a helmet on and go on track so he wouldn’t see his tears.

When things go badly, he can always race. And he’s racing right now. It’s only practice, but it doesn’t make it any less necessary. But his movements are automatic, like taking a long walk and drowning in his thoughts. He doesn’t pay attention to where his legs go, like he doesn’t even think about the familiar circuit as he dives through it.

”Gabi? Are there radio problems?” He heard Amir ask, finally snapping him back into giving an answer.

”No, no, all good,” He said, “The car is fine.”

Amir made a hum of approval, clicking away at something for half a minute before speaking again. “Do you want to come back into the pits so we can try plan B?”

No, no he didn’t. There was probably nothing he wanted to do less in that moment, maybe except facing Nico. But he couldn’t say that.

He was a driver. This was his job, for good or bad or worse or anything life throws at him.

And he’ll do his best at it, no matter what.

”Yes, let’s do it,” He agreed after a bit, continuing down the straight until he could pull into the pits.

Qualifying P12 was good, Gabi tried to convince himself, even if he felt like the car had the potential for more. He’ll have to do a better performance in the race, but considering how little sleep he got that night in favour of overthinking every last thing about his and Nico’s interactions, it was a good effort.

Pedro was down in P24, but his engine had an issue, so he couldn’t really compare. He had other things to focus on before the race, however.

After Q2 ended, he asked Amir to cover for him if anyone came looking, and left the Sauber area where he was supposed to stay and look over data after the session. Instead, he made his way to the Williams garage, a plan ready in his head.

It had to go perfectly.

He’ll find Nico, try to act normal, and find a secluded area where they can talk. Maybe a driver's room or somewhere more private. He’ll start off the conversation easy, ask him how qualifying went, talk about his day, and then finally address the elephant. He’ll apologise, first of all, and make sure Nico knows he can back out of this. He can say no. They can agree to act like this never happened and never speak again. Or, they can take it slow. Start fresh, maybe go on a real date this time. Give each other the time and space they need. And if that’s what ends up happening, he’ll tell him. He’ll tell Nico when he’s ready.

Gabi kept relaying the talking points in his head as he made his way to the Williams garage. His heart rate rose the closer he got to the building, seeing it become bigger with every step until finally, it towered over him, and he was finally inside.

The pit crew standing out didn’t seem surprised to see him; a few even offered him a smile or a greeting, which didn’t help ease his nerves, but he still returned.

Every part of his body told him to turn back, to run away, to give in and avoid that conversation. But he only clenched his fists, making his way inside and towards the part he knew Nico’s driver room should be.

He was so close. Just a few more steps and he’d be over with it. He has to do this.

”Gabriel?”

Gabi turned sharply at the sound, seeing Rubens’s confused smile.

”Ah, hi,” He greeted back, trying not to sound too surprised.

”Are you looking for Nico?” Rubens guessed, either having picked up on Gabi’s tone or alluding to him really being that obvious.

”Yes, I am,” He agreed, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, like that would help calm his nerves.

Rubens’s smile softened, “He’s still in the car, going well in Q3. You’re free to wait here if you want.” He gestured at the various engineers sitting around monitors, giving orders and examining information. Rubens sat a good distance from them, just enough to overlook without overhearing anything. There was a screen showing the broadcast in front of him, which Gabi took a moment to look at.

Just over three minutes left. Sebastian leading, Fernando second, Felipe third… Nico eighth. 

“Alright,” He finally said, taking a seat next to Rubens, eyes still fixed on the screen.

It’s okay. This is still going according to plan, even if he has to delay it a little. It’s fine. He can do this. He can deal with this. Nico will be out soon, and he’ll finally get the closure he needs. The closure he owes him.

”Can I ask you something?” Rubens spoke, tone calm and careful, like this is something Gabi wouldn’t want to say yes to. It sickly reminded him of the way he spoke those exact words to Pedro just a day before, asking him for Fernando.

He didn’t reply, just nodding his head.

There was a pause before Rubens delivered his words, like he was going over them again, making sure not to scare Gabi off. The silence was heavy and made him uncomfortable. It was like the silence in the cab ride, after that Uber driver whose name he forcefully erased from his memory said those horrible things.

”Did you fight?” He finally asked, “You and Nico.”

Gabi folded his arms, as if making himself smaller would mean he wouldn’t have to talk about this. “I don’t know.”

”You don’t know?” Rubens echoed, an invitation for Gabi to elaborate.

Gabi took a breath. “We didn’t… fight,” he settled on saying, trying to give Rubens the benefit of the doubt. He was probably just concerned for his teammate. He knows Nico looks up to Rubens a lot, having even compared them to Gabi and Fernando.

If Nico trusts him, so can he.

”I ran away. Before we could. I… I did something that I shouldn’t have and acted like it didn’t happen the next day and now I haven’t talked to him, I don’t know how to or what to say because I don’t want to hurt him, but I might have already hurt him, and I don’t know what’s going on in his head or if it even means anything to him but I just…” he trailed off, rubbing his face. Breathe.

Rubens stayed silent until Gabi looked at him again. His face was calm, with a touch of pain, like he knew this feeling. This conflict. Whatever this was.

”Do you really not know what’s going on in his head? Not a clue?”

Gabi shook his head helplessly, not understanding why Rubens was teasing him. This was a mistake. He shouldn’t have said anything.

But Rubens kept going, his words holding a sweet undertone. “He told me how oblivious you are, but I didn’t think it was to this extent.”

”You’re not helping,” Gabi whined.

Rubens shook his head. “Gabriel, that boy is head over heels for you. And he has been for the longest time. It’s so painfully obvious, but he asked me not to speak to you about it. Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but whatever it is, I can promise he’s not mad, or angry, or anything else you’re scared of. Please, just talk to him. He needs it more than you think.”

Gabi wasn’t sure if he could process all of that at once, but he kept the last part with him and cracked a small smile to show his appreciation. Rubens nodded and got up, walking off to leave Gabi sitting there.

Now alone, he looked back up at the screen again. Qualifying has ended, the last few drivers still out putting in their best efforts for a last lap.

Nico will be getting here soon.

He stood up, gathering his thoughts and shoving them into the back of his head. He turned in the direction of Nico’s room, sighing as he walked over to the door and leaned back against it.

To get his mind off of it, even just for a moment, he pulled out his phone and crafted a text message to Bruno.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

I’m doing it

Gonna talk to him now

If you don’t see me tomorrow I died from rejection

The door to Nico’s driver's room closed with a thud, Nico’s back hitting it as he drew Gabi in for another kiss.

He didn’t manage to get a word in when Nico finally returned, stopping dead in his tracks the moment his eyes landed on Gabi. Nico’s racing suit was unzipped to the waist, the white fireproof underneath hugging his body so tight that Gabi wished he could replace it.

Combined with the fact that Nico, after getting over the shock, immediately ran up and grabbed Gabi’s face, completely broke his resolve.

Whatever plan he had for the interaction was thrown out the window the moment their lips met, like not even the sharpest knife in the world could separate them. Gabi wanted this; he wanted it so bad, he practically clung to Nico when he fiddled with the handle, quickly slipping both of them inside the room and away from anyone who might see.

“Oh my god,” Nico mumbled against Gabi’s mouth before finally pulling away to catch his breath, “You scared me to death. I-I thought I wouldn’t see you again. You… please, don’t do that ever again.”

Gabi moved his arms to wrap around Nico’s middle, the rush of emotions through his body feeling almost too strong to handle. All he wanted was to press into him, to hold him, to hold on and not let go until they were one and the same. He forced himself to look into Nico’s eyes, the other man’s hands still cupping his face. He looked nearly as desperate as Gabi felt, like he would die just for an answer.

It was torture to want to give one so badly and not know what to say.

He has to say something. He can’t stay silent, not when Nico looks like he’ll crumble if this takes even a second longer. Think of something, anything.

”The- quali,” he muttered, trying to salvage any amount of the plan he originally had, “How… how did you do? What did you get?”

Nico furrowed his brows, making Gabi immediately regret choosing that. “I, what?” Their breathing slowed, bodies relaxing like that was what they needed to remember the situation at hand. Nico’s hand stilled, resting on Gabi’s face, and Gabi’s arms stayed loosely draped over Nico’s back.

”Eighth,” he finally answered, “I got P8. I, good result for a home race, and… all.”

Gabi gulped again. He seemed to be doing that a lot recently. This man was really going to give him high blood pressure with all the stress. 

He can’t remember any of the plan at all now. He has to improvise.

He took a breath. Now or never.

”Nico.”

Nico looked at him again, a hopeful smile spreading on his lips. Like Gabi will finally give the answer he’s been waiting for. ”Gabi,” he countered.

Gabi moved his hands, gently pushing at Nico’s chest to make space between them. He watched the other man’s face immediately fall, feeling the guilt settle back on his shoulders. All he wanted was to make Nico happy. He really, really wanted him to be happy.

But he had to do this.

”Nico, I’m… are, are we together?” He finally asked, a bit more forward than he’d like to be, but it had to be done.

A pause.

”I-I don’t know,” Nico answered.

Well, fuck.

Gabi shifted, folding his hands behind his back. “I was kind of hoping you’d have an answer,” he muttered, “Because I don’t know either.”

Neither of them spoke after that, and Gabi took the chance to think. Why would he even ask that? Of course Nico wouldn’t know. He can’t just expect things to work out without doing anything. He can’t run away and hope for the best.

He looked at Nico again, whose gaze was on the floor. It was kind of heartwarming, in a way, to know that he wasn’t the only one wracking his brain over this. He let out a puff of air, getting Nico’s attention again. “It’s quiet.”

”Why did you kiss me?” Nico cut in, having probably been waiting for an excuse to speak for a while. Did Gabi really miss that?

“What you said,” Gabi excused, a bit embarrassed. “Karun’s line.”

Nico’s eyes widened, a flicker of surprise on his face. “Bruno told you?”

“Uh, yeah. He told me not to use it on you, he probably knew you’d recognise it. I didn’t think you would say that- if it was a joke, and I just took it too far, I’m really sorry. You know I didn’t mean that at all, and-“

”Gabi, darling, no,” Nico’s voice softened, taking a step closer until he was in Gabi’s bubble without outright touching him. His hands rose by his sides, like he wanted to make contact so badly but forced himself not to. Gabi wished he hadn’t stopped himself.

”It wasn’t a joke. I just, I guess I was too scared to do it myself, and making it sound like a joke was… well, if you didn’t want it, I could take back what I said.”

”You’d run away.”

”When you put it like that, I sound like a coward.”

Despite himself, Gabi felt himself starting to smile. “Nico, I’m the one who ran away. That morning. I was the coward.”

Nico shook his head, movements sharp, like he had to deflect Gabi’s arguments immediately. “No, no, that was understandable. I don’t know what I would have done if I woke up before you did, actually. I, I put way too much on you at once, and that’s not okay.” He sighed. “If anything, I’m more of a coward for not texting you after.”

”You tried to talk to me, though,” Gabi reminded, feeling challenged by Nico’s insistence, “Yesterday, after free practice. And Pedro turned you away.”

”That’s not how it happened,” Nico protested, “Vitaly said you looked unwell and asked me to check up on you. Or, I suppose he moreso dragged me there, because I didn’t know if you’d want to see me. Then when Pedro saw us, he left me there and bolted.”

Gabi couldn’t help but laugh at that, picturing a concerned Vitaly thinking he got into trouble with his teammate and immediately ditching Nico. “That does sound like him,” he chuckled, the smile on his face turning warm. “I think we’re all cowards at this point.”

Nico matched his smile. “Yeah, we really are.”

The silence wasn’t as unwelcome this time, and it didn’t last nearly as long. Gabi broke it first.

”I like that,” he muttered, tone sheepish. “We. Us.”

Nico chuckled, “Me too.”

Gabi moved closer, just a bit, just for the sake of being one inch closer to the most beautiful thing he could ever wish for. “Any idea what that means?”

“I think it means,” Nico said, and he gently offered Gabi his hand. Nothing adamant, no insistence or bold assumptions, but just an offer. Something that Gabi has every power to take or refuse. ”I wanna be with you.”

Gabi’s eyes moved from the held-out hand to Nico’s face, that beautiful, loving smile he always looked at him with, and didn’t find himself doubting that feeling for a second.

He took the hand and laced their fingers together.

”Does… are we dating, then?”

Nico’s chuckle sounded just as boyish as Gabi felt, but nonetheless, he said, “Yeah. Yeah, we are.”

Gabriel doesn’t usually let his mood affect his race performance. Today, though, he woke up to a good morning text from Nico, who then spent an hour having breakfast and talking about Hungarian tourist traps with. It felt so natural, just like they always were, but somehow more right.

He couldn’t stop smiling even if he tried. Sebastien patted his back before the race, saying, “Someone’s in a good mood,” before walking off with his teammate. Fernando commented on it, too. Gabi didn’t tell him everything; not yet, anyway. He needed some time to process it himself, but that didn’t stop him from being happy.

Going into the race with that fantastic mood proved to be a very good decision. He was flying, and even managed to hold onto the fastest lap point until the second-to-last lap.

He crossed the line at P7, right at Vitaly’s tail, only to receive a one-place grid penalty for an overtake that he swore was legal. He went off a little on the radio, but didn’t give it much space in his head.

Today was a day to be happy for. P8 was fine, all in all. He asked Amir for Pedro’s result just for good measure, only to find out he DNFed. He should have asked when they pulled out the yellow flag, really, but it just didn’t cross his mind.

Admittedly, Gabi felt a bit bad for him. It was never fun to have your race ruined, he would know from 2025’s first round. And just when Pedro was starting to be nice to him. Though he really has to match his effort. He hasn’t been very kind to Pedro, has he?

Despite the thoughts, Gabi was beaming when he went to the cool-down room, joining a few of the rookies who were sitting discussing the race.

”And did you see the move I pulled on Massa? Almost got an even better result. I’m telling you, one more lap and I’d be fourth,” Vitaly said, making wide gestures with his hands that took the entire space of the couch.

”Please,” Nico then cut in, a bit of attitude in his tone, “One more lap and Gabi would have had you.”

”Not with that penalty, he wouldn’t. One place is so petty, too. Could have finished P3 and dropped off the podium.” Bruno countered, shaking his head.

Gabi then chose to pop into the conversation, taking a seat on the bit of empty space between Nico and Bruno on the couch, the latter of which scooted over, while the former hardly moved an inch.

”Awh, is someone defending me?” He asked Nico, who grinned at him in response.

”Depends, do you find it hot?”

”And what if I do?”

”Then yes, I was absolutely defending you.”

Bruno then cleared his throat, bringing Gabi back to the present as he let out a sheepish chuckle. “Right, so, the penalty?”

Vitaly leaned forward in his seat, giving him and Nico a weird look. “Is… anybody gonna fill me in?”

Maybe everyone was wrong when they called Gabi oblivious, since he really wished he could convincingly pretend not to know what Vitaly was talking about. Well, at least he had the answer, but he should have talked with Nico before saying anything. He hasn’t even told Bruno what went down, though, with the text he sent and now this, he could probably guess.

Gabi glanced at Nico. He tilted his head to the side, like waiting for Gabi to say something. Like he was giving permission.

Was it not too early for him? They’d only made things official a day ago. This was all still fresh in Gabi’s mind, though; it’s not like he and Nico were exactly just friends before, either. And he still hasn’t told him anything about the time travel.

That thought made him nervous, and he stuck his head back into the situation to forget about it. “Fill you in?” He asked, putting on his best dumbfounded act.

”Don’t bullshit me,” Vitaly deadpanned. Though it was hard to take him seriously when there was still the hint of a smirk on his face, like he knew what was about to come.

Gabi took a look around the room. A good amount of the drivers have cleared up by now, and no one was standing within hearing distance if he spoke quietly. Or, he doesn’t even have to speak, does he?

His eyes moved over to Nico, sitting pressed against his side, foot nervously tapping on the ground. Like he was being forced to wait for something. He held his breath, gently moving one of his hands on top of Nico’s, which was resting on his knee.

He didn’t say much more than that, just gave Vitaly a hopeful look and prayed that this didn’t go badly.

Vitaly stared for a second, then a few more, and finally, when Gabi reached 20, he muttered a single, quiet, “Oh.” After four more seconds, the grin spread back on his face. “Oh no, oh no you didn’t. Where’s Sebastien? He owes me a twenty. Oh, I fucking knew it!”

Gabi blinked, holding Nico’s hand tighter. “Slow down, mate, don’t go around yelling about it. It’s… still new, we don’t need to rush into things.”

”Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” Nico agreed, leaning a bit more into Gabi’s side. It probably wasn’t as subtle as either of them hoped, but Gabi couldn’t bring himself to be bothered by it right now.

Vitaly took the hint, thankfully, still staring at them in awe. “Yeah, yeah, okay, I just… wow. Didn’t think you’d actually have the guts to do this.”

”This?”

”You know,” Vitaly vaguely gestured between them, “With the heart-eyes everywhere, I kinda just guessed that you decided it wasn’t worth it. Formula One isn’t really kind to people like that.”

It was true, at least as far as Gabi was aware. There weren’t many publicly LGBTQ drivers, let alone in 2010. Technically, he wasn’t one of them either, as he wasn’t exactly public about it to the media. That did make him wonder if he should consider coming out someday.

”Yes, well, you do what you need to do,” Gabi shrugged. He then turned to Bruno, who had been silently watching the conversation, which didn’t surprise him since he was usually the quieter of the bunch. “And apparently you’re not the only one who ‘noticed’ the ‘heart-eyes’.”

Despite making quotation marks with his hands, Nico still coughed back a laugh. “Don’t say it like that, makes me sound pathetic.”

”You absolutely were,” Bruno countered, smiling humorously.

”That was incredibly pathetic,” Vitaly echoed.

”You still kind of are,” Gabi concluded, biting back laughter at the way Nico huffed in disapproval.

”Friends are good for you, they say,” Nico muttered under his breath, sending the group into another fit of laughter. His hand still managed to find Gabi’s again when they moved onto the next topic, and they didn’t let go until it was time for the post-race interviews.

The rest of the week, little to Gabriel’s surprise, he and Nico spent travelling around Hungary before sneaking off to spend the night at each other’s hotel rooms like two teenagers with their first love.

Nico wasn’t Gabi’s first partner, but he was definitely the one he was most pathetically down bad for. Every second he spent by his side felt like heaven, no matter if they were out walking through Hungarian tourist attractions, sitting at restaurants with their friends, watching movies late at night or wrapped up in heavy sheets as they belonged right with each other.

After the conversation with Vitaly, they did have a talk to set some boundary rules, which they mostly neglected, thinking of when they made things official. Which, was absolutely wild to realise they did.

Gabi is dating Nico Hulkenberg. His boyfriend, the man he loves, the person who loves him just as much, is Nico Hulkenberg.

It felt like something silly to bring up, especially when he still had that little nag in his head telling him not to embarrass himself in front of Nico. There wasn’t even a reason to mention it, after all. He wasn’t saying it like a compliment. He wasn’t complaining about anything, god no. It wasn’t even a question.

Just… something that ran through his head. Something that he wanted to share so badly that he ended up doing so. He almost prepared himself to get laughed at as he sat with Nico in his hotel room, eating some expensive snacks from the minibar, a movie playing in front of them that neither were all too engulfed in.

”It still feels insane to think about,” He said, knowing it was out of nowhere, which already made him start to regret bringing this up, but he couldn’t stop now. “We’re… you, I mean, we’re… a couple. After everything.”

Nico did laugh, but it was more of an embarrassed chuckle, which made Gabi feel a little better about it. “Yeah. It does feel crazy, doesn’t it? I mean, what’s it any different than before?”

“The difference?” Gabi asked, as if the answer was obvious. But as it slowly dawned on him that, in fact, he wasn’t sure. “It’s, you know. We’re together now. Officially. I don’t need to worry about it anymore, no- no ‘what if’s and ‘why’s and all of that. I guess it’s kind of the same as before, but just… different. If that makes sense?”

”Not really,” Nico answered after a pause, his smile widening. “But it’s still really cute when you ramble.”

Gabi made a face at the answer, reaching over to grab the bag of chips they were both snacking on away from Nico, like he was confiscating it for the teasing. “I do not ramble, thank you very much.”

Nico raised an eyebrow, amusement clear in his voice. “You don’t? Then what do you call it in Portuguese when someone talks way too much and way too fast because they’re embarrassed?”

”You call it (), but it’s not the same, because- hey, I don’t get embarrassed!” He protested, tossing the bag of chips aside in favour of shoving Nico’s shoulder. Despite the argument, they were both smiling.

”You look pretty embarrassed to me,” Nico countered.

”I’ll show you what’s embarrassed,” Gabi threatened playfully, grabbing Nico’s shoulders and pulling him closer, pressing their lips in a proper kiss. He waited a few seconds before pulling back, just to watch Nico’s teasing smile melt into a loving one.

”I love that you can just do that now.”

Gabi grinned in return, letting his head fall on Nico’s shoulder, still gazing up at him. “Me too.”

He felt Nico’s arm wrap around his middle, holding him close without pulling in too much, probably still testing the boundaries with what he was comfortable with. It was a little disappointing, since all he wanted at that moment was to be one with Nico, but he did find it sweet that he didn’t want to make him uneasy.

”Maybe that’s the difference.”

”Of what?” Gabi blinked at him, forgetting the track of their conversation.

Nico smiled patiently. “Of being… boyfriends, versus not officially. That you can do things like this, and you know I want you to.”

“I want you too,” Gabi echoed his last words, but toned them with a slightly more suggestive voice, which earned a flustered huff from Nico. God, he was so adorable.

“I’m trying to have a serious conversation, you can’t keep just flirting with me,” Nico complained, even though Gabi felt like he wasn’t all that annoyed by it. “It’s distracting.”

Gabi laughed at that, but pulled his head away from Nico’s shoulder, just enough to look at him properly. “Okay, okay. No more teasing. I’ll be serious.”

Nico let out a breath, turning to look at the screen in front of them, still playing the film they were supposed to be watching. When Nico found out that Gabi didn’t watch all the James Bond movies, he insisted they start watching them in order, and they spent a good while arguing whether it was better to watch chronologically or by release date before deciding on the latter.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when Nico spoke again.

”On Sunday, with Vitaly and Bruno, I don’t know if I wanted to tell them. I- don’t get me wrong, I’m really that happy you did, that we did. But I’m not sure if that’s how I wanted to do it.”

Gabi nodded slowly, and he could see where Nico was coming from. He remembered feeling similar when they were there, like there was a proper method to coming out, and they just didn’t know it.

Nico continued, “I want to tell everyone I’m yours. I want to show my mom pictures of us and bring you back to Germany, and I want to have all those little sweet moments with you in public so everyone will know you’re mine.” He paused to sigh. “But I don’t want to rush things. Not for you, or for me. Because I know nothing good comes out of it. But if you don’t like that idea, I’m sure we can work something else, too.”

”No, no,” Gabi quickly shook his head, voice determined. “I agree that’s probably for the best.” He reached across to take Nico’s hand that wasn’t wrapped around him, turning it in his own hand like he was studying the feel of it. “Let’s not tell other people, just until we’re more… settled, let’s say?”

Nico smiled again, intertwining his fingers with Gabi’s. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

A moment of silence passed before Nico quickly corrected himself, “Actually, I’ve, um, I think I should tell my sister. We’re really close, she helped me a lot in coming out, and in… figuring out where things were going with you.”

“Right, yeah, I think that’s fair. I remember your sister.” He agreed, a brief flash of the few interactions he’s had with her flashing through his mind. “Oh, and I should probably tell Fernando too. I know he’ll be fine with waiting, but I want to tell him. Since you know, he’s…”

”Basically your dad?” Nico offered.

”Not basically, but yes.”

Nico let out a puff of air. “Okay. So we’ll tell family, but just them for now. Sounds alright with you?”

”Sounds perfect,” Gabi agreed, squeezing his hand.

Gabriel was pretty excited to head into the Belgian Grand Prix, still having good memories from it the last time around. It came just after Silverstone, so their team was still on that post-podium high. They didn’t think he or Nico could get a better result, and although they were right, Gabi still managed to score two points in Belgium.

Back-to-back point scoring was rare enough for them, so getting it after a podium was like a spark of hope reignited. He and Nico celebrated that, too.

After Silverstone, they went back to the team hotel partying like there was no tomorrow, and he could only imagine the damage the team or even Nico had to pay afterwards for all the chaos they caused. There were drinks everywhere, music blasting and people, both team personnel and residents, noticing the commotion, living their best life.

He didn’t expect Nico to be that wild, either. Everyone was all over him, and a crowd formed at some point to lift him up as he kept dancing. Gabi was right beside him, although on the floor, cheering and getting them drinks and telling everyone what his teammate had just achieved.

After Spa, though, they didn’t do anything that exhilarating. It was just the two of them, he and Nico, sat at some fancy Belgian restaurant surrounded by people closer to Nico’s age than his.

”I like to visit this place whenever I’m here,” he could recall Nico telling him, “They have a couple locations in Germany, too, but it’s not the same. There’s something different about getting to race in, subjectively, the best Formula One circuit, then getting to have a nice dinner with someone you care about.”

A full year passed, and Gabi still couldn’t tell if Nico was expressing his care for Gabi or discreetly asking if it was reciprocated.

He told himself that, if the race went well, he would find that restaurant and take Nico there with him. Make a new memory from that place, a better one. Maybe he could even tell him the truth. Though that wouldn’t be fair to Nico. It wouldn't be fair to risk ruining his favourite restaurant if he doesn’t take it well.

Is it even ruining his favourite restaurant, if he doesn’t even know it’s his favourite yet? Should he even show it to him, or wait until Nico discovered it by himself? But that could take years, and it might not even happen, since Gabi might stop him from meeting that someone he cares about.

And still, if the race doesn’t go well, he can always just wait it out.

The free practice didn’t make it look like that would be the case, though, as he was flying. Not in the top 3 fastest, not yet, but he made a good few attempts while testing the limits of the car on this track.

Things were looking even better than anticipated, and just thinking of getting to properly race in the car sent goosebumps all over his skin. The moment he finished each practice, he couldn’t wait to jump back into it again.

Pedro, though, not so much.

He doesn’t ask about his teammate a lot. Gabi knows they aren’t friends, and at this point, he was fine with that. They were civil with each other, could work together, and that was what teammates were for. Anything beyond that is a personal friendship, like he’d had with Nico.

Amir, though, talks about him a lot. He says it’s good to have someone in equal machinery to compare to, but Gabi doesn’t really think that’s fair, since Pedro didn’t exactly thrive with the setup.

Their qualifying head-to-head over time grew more and more to his advantage, particularly since Turkey, when Pedro started voicing his complaints about the car. A fair amount of changes were introduced from Gabi’s advice, which he had much more experience with than Pedro.

But it wasn’t like the car was the issue. It was a decent car, especially coming from an underfunded team like Sauber, but Pedro just couldn’t drive it the way Gabi did. At least according to Amir.

When it was time for qualifying, he was determined to make the H2H tilt more in his favour, not out of spite for Pedro but out of love for the game. He still had that podium to get, the first one of many he knows he’ll earn.

Like in practice, there was a bit of rain on the track during Q2 and Q3, but it was nothing Gabi couldn’t handle. He slotted in 9th on the grid. He could have probably gotten a better result if not for the rain, Amir pointed out, but if the same happened during the race, he had the opportunity to pull some moves and gain a few positions.

Pedro, Peter later informed him after the quali results, was knocked out in Q1, so Gabi was doing great. 

The first thing that Gabriel did on Sunday morning, unsurprisingly, was open his phone. Only instead of checking his messages and scrolling social media for an hour, he checked the weather app like an old man.

Rain.

He sighed, rolling onto his side on the mattress. He shouldn’t even be surprised, usually when there’s a drizzle during qualifying, the rain would come down heavier during the race.

It wasn’t all bad, either. Rain always made the races more interesting; they became intense, aggressive, and the stakes rose incredibly. He wished he could say that he was the best version of himself when that was the case, but the weight of the car tended to get the better of him when he couldn’t control it.

But he still had the chance to change it. To do better. To show whatever racing gods were out there that he couldn’t be stopped by a few water drops.

With renewed determination, he finally pushed himself up from bed, stretching his arms out with a yawn. He tossed his phone back onto the mattress, turning to head towards the bathroom to get the day started.

In fact, he didn’t open his phone again until he was in his race suit and burning time before going out into his car. There were already a few drivers in their cars, though he had a good twenty minutes to spend before he was expected out there.

He wasn’t even surprised to find the rookie’s group chat flooded with texts. They usually talked a lot in the morning, but so did Gabi, so he couldn’t blame them. He hummed as he scrolled up to the beginning of the conversation, reading the first few texts.

[ ~ Vitaly Petrov ]

Morning

@Bruno Senna

Do I kick Karun out?

[ ~ Lucas Di Grassi ]

That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?

[ ~ Vitaly Petrov ]

Tell that to their team

Not me

[ ~ Lucas Di Grassi ]

Shouldn’t you ask Karun at least?

Bruno didn’t have a say in it either.

[ ~ Vitaly Petrov ]

OK man

@Karun Chandhok

Do you wanna stay in the chat?

Gabi reread those messages a few times, unsure if his reading comprehension skills have gotten worse over the years or if Vitaly was seriously trying to kick Karun out of the chat.

Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen him in a while. Bruno didn’t say anything about it, though, so he assumed the cold shoulder treatment was now extended to Bruno’s friends. Which was admittedly not the kind of guy he knew Karun out to be, but he could live with it.

[ ~ Lucas Di Grassi ]

Don’t ask him publicly, you dumbass.

That’s extremely rude.

[ ~ Vitaly Petrov ]

You’re the one calling me a dumbass?

[ ~ Lucas Di Grassi ]

I just feel bad for him.

You wouldn’t want to be in his shoes.

[ ~ Vitaly Petrov ]

Guess not

He’ll stay here then I guess

We can just add the new guy

@Karun Chandhok do you have new guy’s number?

[ ~ Lucas Di Grassi ]

This time you should have tagged Bruno.

[ ~ Vitaly Petrov ]

Do it yourself then

Mr. Smartass

[ ~ Lucas Di Grassi ]

Oh my god!

[ ~ Sebastien Buemi ]

Can you guys stop yelling?

I just woke up

[ ~ Lucas Di Grassi ]

How can we even yell over text??

This was… weird. Not them ragebaiting Lucas, that was a near daily occurrence, but what Vitaly said about Karun and this ‘new guy’.

It didn’t make sense. Was someone replacing him? Why? Karun wasn’t a bad driver by any means, especially with the shitty car he was forced to drive. He and Bruno constantly battle it out on track, too, so they would have no reason to replace one over the other.

That was if Karun was even being replaced. Maybe he just had a fight with Bruno? But then he would have told him about it. And why did everyone else seem to know what was going on when he didn’t?

He scrolled down a bit until he saw Karun’s name pop up.

[ ~ Karun Chandhok ]

Why did I get tagged five times?

It’s barely 7 in the morning.

[ ~ Vitaly Petrov ]

Sorry

Are you leaving officially?

[ ~ Sebastien Buemi ]

@Lucas De Grassi I see why you called him harsh now

[ ~ Vitaly Petrov ]

Shut up

[ ~ Karun Chandhok ]

I’m not leaving permanently.

It’s a team matter, not so much about me.

Unfortunately I can’t discuss it much right now.

[ ~ Vitaly Petrov ]

That sucks

I’ll miss talking to you :(

[ ~ Karun Chandhok ]

Christ mate, you make it sound like I’m dead.

I’m sure I’ll return for more races this year.

I won’t be offended if you add Sakon to the chat either.

[ ~ Sebastien Buemi ]

Keep that confidence going and it’ll happen

And honestly I vote against it

I like this little circle we have

[ ~ Lucas Di Grassi ]

Agreed.

[ ~ Karun Chandhok ]

Thank you all.

That means a lot.

[ ~ Vitaly Petrov ]

Course

Did you tell Bruno?

[ Karun

He knew before I did, actually.

[ ~ Vitaly Petrov ]

Oh

Gabi stared at the screen of his phone, feeling numb. Sure, he wasn’t as close to Karun as he was with Nico or Vitaly or Bruno or Sebastien, but this was still a shock. And why did no one tell him anything?

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

@Karun Chandhok fuck your team

Let’s go drinking in Italy

Everyone

Attendance mandatory

[ ~ Karun Chandhok ]

Thank you, Gabi, but it really isn’t necessary.

[ ~ Vitaly Petrov ]

No actually I like his idea

Who’s paying?

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Everyone but Karun?

[ ~ Sebastien Buemi ]

Sounds good with me.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Settled then

He still wasn’t satisfied, but he supposed this was all right for now. He’ll still make a point later to talk with him, though. He heard from Bruno how bad the management at HRT was, but he didn’t imagine they would replace Karun mid-season and force him to keep the details private.

Plus, it was odd that Bruno didn’t tell him. Of course, they don’t talk about everything, but this would obviously be something pretty critical in his life, especially if he was still trying to win Karun back.

Then his eyes drifted to the time, and he quickly turned off his phone and rushed to the race track before it would be too late.

Gabriel took a deep breath as he settled in the seat of his car, fingers flexing around the steering wheel like he was making sure it was there.

It felt so good to be in that car again, the fabric of his race suit against his skin, gloves covering his hands, and the visor sheltering his sight from anything not related to the race.

The formation lap went quickly, almost too quickly, but he was already fired up.

The rain was his chance. It was always a wildcard, but he was determined to get the odds to turn in his favour. The air was dry so far, with the exception of gusts of shuddering wind that his car protected him from, but the rain was certain for the last quarter of the race, and he put his faith in it starting even sooner.

When the lights went out, he shifted all his focus to one thing, like a word vibrating in his head; faster.

He passed the car in P11 by turning in sharper than necessary for the first turn, making him lose a bit of pace, but he quickly recovered and managed to catch up to the next one by the end of the sector.

”That was for P10,” Amir informed him after he overtook that one as well.

”Let’s make that number higher,” he sang in reply, finishing the first lap as he narrowed the gap against the car in front of him.

”That’s the spirit.”

When he caught up to Rubens’s Williams, he was given a fight, and spent a few too many laps to his liking exchanging leads with it before finally passing. It was like a wave of fresh air, while still filling him with excitement after the battle.

Out of everything racing had to offer, he probably loved wheel-to-wheel battles the most. They were challenging like nothing else, having to balance distance and speed without going off track, but also exhilarating in the same way. They did always feel better when he won, though.

“Gap to the next car?”

”3 seconds and a tenth,” Amir informed, “Ferrari ahead.”

Gabi grinned just a little wider, even though no one else could see it. “Brazilian or Spanish?”

Amir laughed at the joke, which Gabi didn’t doubt would somehow end up getting clipped. “As Brazilian as you, mate. Give Felipe a good fight.”

And he intended to do just that, only, every time he got close, Felipe would drive off and make the gap a bit bigger. He was defending without even being close, which annoyed Gabi, since he knew for certain that if he were driving that Ferrari, he would have passed him by now.

Well, that is, if Ferrari didn’t fuck up his race like he listened to Fernando complain about much too often.

By the 30th lap, finally having gotten the gap to under a second, the rain started.

Gabi was sure he could handle it. He pitted for wets under a safety car that was undoubtedly caused by the drizzle, coming back out try and take advantage of the situation. Everyone expected the rain; it was only a matter of how well they could perform with it.

And then he spun.

It was so sudden, he almost didn’t think it happened. He aggressively pushed the wheel as left as it would go without popping off like a spring, but the oversteer pushed his car over the track and into the grass.

He didn’t hit a wall, thankfully, but he panicked as cars flew by next to him.

”Gabi? Are you okay? Any damage?”

He appreciated being checked on, regardless of whether it was his engineer’s job to ask him that. “Yes, yes, the car is good. I’m going back on track. How many positions did I lose?”

He wheeled the car back into the race, trying not to let the disappointment wash over him.

”You’re… 17th. It’s okay, we can still make the most of this. You’re good to continue.” He paused, just for a moment, then added, “And when I asked for damage, I meant you, not the car.”

Gabi couldn’t resist it. “Sounds like something Nico would say.”

He could practically hear Amir’s eye roll as he answered, ”And I’m sure he’d love to hear that, after we get you that rain podium.”

When the race ended, Gabi was exhausted, having drained himself completely by regaining all these places; all his efforts ended up meaningless, anyway, as he failed to even get into the points.

It was undoubtedly unfair. He was so close to getting a point, taking himself one step closer to that championship that was statistically impossible for him to win, but it meant more than just a trophy he wouldn’t get. It meant more than just a number to tally up how much money the team will be getting next season.

The points reflected his effort, not his skill, but how much of it he could show in the given circumstance. They were so rare to come by in his first year of F1, having finished dead last out of the point scorers, and 19th overall.

After getting on a high of scoring so many, it should be a given he’d feel down if his efforts went in vain.

He considered skipping the cool-down room to take a hot shower while waiting for the podium ceremony to begin, but ended up deciding against it. He knew Fernando would be there, off the podium due to a nasty DNF, and would make the world a little better. He always did.

After changing into a warmer team kit, he made his way to the crowded space, locating Fernando talking to Sebastian, Rosberg, and Jenson, and, if he had to guess, complaining about how shit the race was.

He didn’t wait for a pause in the conversation to invite himself over, receiving a grin from Seb. When Fernando noticed him, he grabbed him by the shoulder and showed him to the rest of the group like a prize on display.

”Speaking of bad luck, Gabi goes on the podium after Jenson and I. No DNF, but the rain did him dirty.”

Jenson laughed loudly, slapping Rosberg’s shoulder, who sighed in response. “Great, just another podium just barely missed despite working my ass off.”

”You say ‘just barely’ as if you had any chance to make it if it wasn’t raining,” Seb countered, making Jenson laugh harder.

”P6 is solid compared to most of us today, anyway,” Gabi added, “You’re the only one here who finished with points.”

”Maybe rain has a German bias,” Jenson offered, “Though, in that case, it would be Seb on that podium instead of Mark.”

”Way to rub it in,” Seb whined, only for them all to chuckle again.

Then, Fernando turned to Gabi. “You checked the results this time,” he observed, which Gabi couldn’t pinpoint as a good or a bad thing.

”Uh, yes. Didn’t want to miss another one of your home wins by ignoring the leaderboard.” He explained, only to be interrupted by Nico laughing.

”My dad would kill me if I missed a home race win of his,” He said, smiling thoughtfully. “He never won Germany in F1, as far as I remember at least. But if he did and I didn’t see it, he’d probably disown me.”

Seb snickered at the joke, “I pray for your kids that you retire before you have them.”

They kept going back and forth for a bit, and Gabi would have probably continued to laugh along, if not for Jenson turning to him and Fernando with an exasperated look and muttering, “Germans…”

Fernando grinned at him, probably used to it by now. “You say it like I’m any better.”

”At least Spaniards are known for food instead of-“ Gabi started, only to cut himself off and turn his entire demeanour over. “Wait, that reminds me, I wanted to ask you something.”

Fernando raised his eyebrows at the sudden switch of topic, turning to face Gabi fully, but didn’t drop his smile. “What is it?”

”Do you know any good places to party in Italy?”

It was only after he blurted it out that he realised the missing context was crucially necessary for the answer. In honesty, he just wanted to make sure the rookies go somewhere fun, and that Karun gets to enjoy himself. But without adding it, the question was so random it probably sounded like an excuse to switch topics.

But, nonetheless, Fernando answered, through a curiously amused look. “Not specifically in Italy, no,” He said, pausing for a moment to consider it before adding, “But Jarno might.”

”Jarno?”

”Truli,” he explained. “We were teammates in Renault, before my championships. He’s Italian, so your best bet is to ask him. Did I really never tell you about my Renault days?”

And Fernando did, of course he did. Both when he had just joined the A14 management for the first time, and in small bits in conversations over the 2010 season. But most of them were of his days with Fischiella, with whom he won constructor titles with, and championships alongside.

Though now that he thought about it, maybe Fernando really was just trying to switch the topic.

Thankfully, though, he didn’t need to let that thought linger for too long, as his attention was stolen when someone wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He turned to see Nico’s smiling face, a sight that made something twist deep inside his chest.

”Hey,” Nico said, as Gabi pulled him in for a side hug. “I was looking for you earlier.”

”Did you find me?” Gabi joked. He didn’t have to look away from Nico to tell that the rest of the group was staring at them, but it didn’t bother him much. If anything, it was kind of nice. Let them see that he has Nico. Let them see that Nico has him.

Nico’s eyes locked with his own, his smile quiet but warm. “Yeah,” he agreed, “I did.”

He would have loved to spend the rest of the day staring into those beautiful brown eyes, but the moment was interrupted by Jenson leaning in to Fernando again and muttering, yet again, “Germans…”

Gabi laughed, but stopped when Nico pulled away from him and took a step back. He looked almost embarrassed, like he was doing something he shouldn’t. It confused him, since drivers messed around with each other all the time, and hugs or touches were as common as air.

However, Nico quickly recovered, even if he kept the space between them. Gabi consoled himself that it was probably for the best; he had no reason to feel this abandoned just because Nico wanted space. They had made clear boundaries, he should respect them. He should stop being so attached; they had only been together for a little over a week.

”You say it like a bad thing,” Seb then countered, a pause too long between Jenson’s words and his retort, but Gabi was just glad they could continue the conversation on a lighter note.

After the podium ceremony finished, the drivers were free to go back to their hotels, and Gabi had made plans to go back with Nico and spend some time together after the heavy race.

But, as he spotted Nico waiting for his Uber, he immediately felt the awkward tension when his hopeful smile wasn’t returned.

”Hey.”

”Hello.”

He walked up next to Nico, only for him to take a step to the side. Like there was something radiating from Gabi that he was allergic to.

”You okay?” He asked after a moment of contemplation, although this was hardly the place for emotional conversations. There weren’t many people around, but standing in the middle of a parking lot didn’t exactly scream ‘privacy’.

Nico looked at him again and forced a smile. Gabi could tell it was forced because Nico’s voice cracked when he answered, “All good.”

He didn’t like this. Not one bit.

So he tried a different approach.

”Did I do something wrong?” He asked, trying to keep his voice calm and not sound nearly as desperate for an answer as he felt. “Back there, with Fernando and the others. You don’t have to tell me now, I just… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have hugged you in front of them, I know, I wasn’t thinking, and I get why you’d be mad at me.”

Nico stayed quiet as Gabi talked, and it took a good ten seconds after he finished before he answered, “It’s alright.”

Gabi waited for more. For clarification, for a ‘but’, for just anything to help him understand this. But none came.

”It’s not,” he insisted, moving to stand in front of Nico instead of by his side. “It’s not alright if I hurt you.”

Nico didn’t look at him. “You didn’t do anything, Gabi. It’s nothing. I mean it.”

”Why do you lie to me?”

That made Nico stiffen, eyes flying to Gabi’s face. He realised it sounded like an accusation, instead of the plea for an explanation it really was. He was about to take it back, when Nico scoffed and shoved his hands in his pockets.

”I told you, Gabi, it’s nothing. Why are you always so stubborn? Not everything is about you, okay?”

Gabi stared at him. This was nothing like Nico.

He looked pained, genuinely pained, like he was trying to ignore a bleeding wound. He never wanted to make Nico feel like this. He never wanted to see Nico look at him like Gabi had just punched him in the stomach.

This time, Gabi was the one to take a step back. “I should… go.”

Nico pulled out his phone, though Gabi suspected it was just an excuse to drop his face and stop himself from crying. “You should.”

He didn’t run, he didn’t even walk at half the speed he usually does. He backed away with slow, steady steps, like he expected Nico to call after him at any moment and ask him to stay.

The moment didn’t come when he made his way back to the paddock, it didn’t come when he ordered a taxi to take him back to the hotel, and it didn’t come when he paced around in his room debating if he should call Fernando, search for Bruno, or just go to sleep and pray he wouldn’t need to wake up to this.

When you love someone, you’ll understand that sometimes you need to lie.

That’s what Fernando told him when they talked about the time travel. When Gabi told him the most valuable piece of information in his life, when he gave him the opportunity to ruin both his career and life, and bring a whole new revelation to the world.

And instead, he told him that. He supposed that, if he thought about it enough, this could apply to this situation as well.

Nico loved him, didn’t he? It was so clear for so long, but he was just too stupid to see it. But now he knew. Now he was sure of it, and he wasn’t going to ruin their chance together again.

And, if Nico loved him, maybe he needed to lie sometimes.

It made about as much sense as it didn’t. Gabi didn’t like making declarations like that, as he found that most of the time, ‘always’ and ‘never’ didn’t apply. Most things were situation-dependent and couldn’t be summed up in principles. He saw that when he had to lie to everyone when travelling back in time, he saw that in his childhood, when he chose himself over his brother, and he saw that every day when he went out on the track with the same mindset and different results.

There weren’t rules. Not exactly, at least. But, at the same time, maybe he was wrong.

Fernando had much more life experience than him, so it was a possibility that there was more nuance to that than he thought. Maybe there were rules, patterns, principles, whatever he should call them. God, this made his head hurt. He usually preferred thinking in English, but he was struggling to find the right words to use.

But does it really matter what words he says, if he knows what he’s trying to convey?

That Nico lied. That there wasn’t nothing going on, and they both knew that. That there was clearly something bothering him, but he didn’t want to tell Gabi. Or, scratch that. It doesn’t matter why, but he didn’t tell Gabi.

And that was okay.

That was Nico’s choice. And he was going to need to accept it, as much as he wanted to help him through it.

Gabriel sighed, dropping back onto his hotel bed. The blanket felt much colder when he was so used to Nico’s body with it.

What does he do now?

There were a few things he could do, none of which were very good options, in his mind. For one, he can call it an early night and try to fall asleep, then go apologise in the morning. Though, he couldn’t guarantee that Nico would want to talk to him the next morning.

Alternatively, he could text Rubens and double-check he was flying with them, so he would talk to Nico then. But that could make him uncomfortable, and the conversation would be forced instead of comforting.

He could probably text or call Nico, but that would be too dry. He could ask Bruno to talk to him, which he almost did earlier, but he’s dealing with his own shit and doesn’t need Gabi’s problems on top of it. He could go to Nico’s hotel, but they might not let him in.

Fuck, it killed him to think of Nico probably crying in his hotel right now, cold and alone, just because Gabi wouldn’t give up trying to be a hero for him. Why was he so stupid?

He wished he could go there right now and kiss him until that smile is back on his face. He missed that sweet voice; Nico would tell him how much he meant to him. He couldn’t help himself for wanting to go find Nico and make everything better, maybe even take him to that restaurant he knew he loved and give him that memory with a person he cared about.

That memory.

Gabi sat up on the bed, eyes widening. That was it. Nico told him he found that place on his first race in Belgium, wasn’t it? Which was today. Nico was going to find that restaurant today.

And Gabi was about to let him go there all by himself.

He sprang up, rushing to grab a coat before leaving the room. He practically ran all the way down to the lobby, too urgent for the elevator. When he was finally down, he pulled out his phone to consider ordering another taxi, but that would take too long. He didn’t even remember the address, but he was sure he could recognise the place if he was there.

So walking it was.

It was a little silly, he had to admit, to nearly run himself breathless through the hotel, only to end up walking at a medium pace around the city to try and see if he recognised anything. His hotel was within walking distance from the track, which he knew the restaurant was near, so at least he was close to going the right direction.

The streets were surprisingly tranquil, if only interrupted by the quiet voices of tipsy people walking around, although that was probably thanks to it being nearly one in the morning. He felt almost peaceful, just walking around in the night, cold breeze blowing through his curls as he glanced between signs and buildings.

Eventually, the path started looking a little familiar, if only in small glimpses. He remembered looking around as he and Nico walked here, chatting faintly. A lot of things changed, probably new stores and owners switching around and rebuilding things, but there was a consistency to it.

And then, he found it.

A small diner with a large, green sign in front, which said something in German that Nico told him was a word play about food. He could already imagine Nico walking past here, feeling lost, just to see the sign and smile a little. The bittersweetness of that thought broke him.

He slowly walked up to the diner, pulling the door open to walk inside. It was… different from what he remembered. Everything looked newer, younger, fresher. The walls were painted yellow instead of blue, the gust of wind that hit him from inside was much warmer than he remembered, and instead of silence, he was met by the sounds of faint chatter and something playing in the background by Billy Joel.

Yet, the homey feel which he remembered stayed just the same.

And, as he made his way further inside, he located Nico sitting there; alone. He saw his face light up for just a moment when he pulled the chair in front of him and joined him at the table, and it almost ruined him to see the disappointment wash in after it.

Ten agonising seconds of silence passed before Gabi realised Nico wasn’t going to say anything. So, he tried a, “Hey.”

”Hello.” Nico returned, not looking at him.

Gabi sighed softly. “Nico,” he started, then decided to try a different approach. He ran a hand through his hair, looking towards the kitchen.

”What does the sign out front say?”

Nico blinked, surprised. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out at first. Then it turned into a confused stammer, before finally, “It- that’s… It’s a pun. Says, um, ‘Das ist mir Wurst’. It basically means ‘I don’t care’, like slang, but translated literally, it says ‘that is sausage to me’. And they sell sausages here… I think, at least. Haven’t ordered anything yet.”

Gabi cracked a small smile at the answer. “That sounds like a joke you would like.”

Nico huffed, but didn’t deny it. “Almost like that’s the whole reason I walked in here.” Another small silence fell on them, now looking at each other, before Nico broke it. “How did you know I was here?”

Oh. Right. He hadn’t thought of that. “Oh, hum, I was…” He started, thinking back to the last time he was here, before deciding on, “I know the owner. Nice old lady. She told me another driver found the place, and I figured it might be you.”

Finally, Nico returned the smile with a little smirk of his own. “Snitching to my boyfriend? Doesn’t sound very nice of her.”

And, just like that, Gabi proved to himself once again that he was completely and utterly gone for this man.

They didn’t talk about what happened.

Not in the restaurant, not on the way back, not in the bath they took together to warm up from the cold, and not in the bed they snuggled in afterwards.

It went unmentioned for the rest of the week, most of which they spent together. Rubens offered up his plane again, and Gabi was more than happy to accept. He didn’t talk about it because he could tell it was bothering Nico, but he clearly didn’t want to discuss it with him.

He hated seeing Nico upset, but it was far better than seeing Nico upset because of him. So he tried to be as supportive as he could, being careful not to repeat that fuck-up of his that Nico thankfully accepted his apology for.

Gabi didn’t know what was going on for sure, but he suspected it had something to do with either Jenson in particular or something he said. But the only thing he could remember Jenson saying that could be slightly offensive was his ‘German’ jokes, which didn’t seem very significant to him.

Although Nico did cry when they watched Mamma Mia when they arrived in Italy, so maybe there was something to it. He didn’t ask any questions, just wrapped an arm around him and squeezed. It was strange, giving him space while being right there next to him at the same time. He couldn’t explain why, but it felt weird.

He was always used to presence coming hand in hand with connection. Maybe those weren’t the right words, but he found it hard to describe it. People who were there for him physically were always there for him emotionally. His parents were neither, but Enzo always was. As much as he loves messing around or teasing him, the very moment Gabi expressed actually needing help, Enzo was there with arms open and ready to hear and comfort.

So was Fernando. They were always close, at least since he joined his management, and Fernando probably had to listen to him yap for hours on end about TikTok trends and whatnot that was on his mind. But whenever something was wrong, and Gabi felt like the pressure was building up, Fernando was there for him. In fact, Fernando’s guidance was the very reason he rarely struggled with pressure anymore.

It was very difficult in Brazil 2025, especially. He had his family, friends, fans, and the whole country rooting for him, and he crashed in qualifying and didn’t join the race. It was devastating, and he almost broke.

But Fernando was there. He brought Pepe to keep him company during the race, and, now that he thought about it, that was the best possible thing he could have done. He was relatively close to most of the A14 drivers; they liked to meet up a lot and collectively help the younger ones wherever they could, whether they needed racing advice or a shoulder to cry on. Pepe, though, wasn’t really there emotionally. He didn’t ask questions, he didn’t give explanations, and he avoided advice at all costs.

That day, when he asked Pepe why he came, he just shrugged and said, “Just making sure you’re not alone. Hey, if we suffer together, that’s half the suffering for each.”

He tried to adopt Pepe’s mentality in the days leading up to the upcoming race, spending as much time as he possibly could with Nico. They still talked, of course, about everything that came to mind; raw, unfiltered thoughts, like they were the only two people in the world. But whenever something got a little too touchy, Gabi paused it, and assured Nico he didn’t need to talk about anything he didn’t want to.

He could tell Nico would much rather avoid the subject entirely, but he still agreed regardless.

And, besides, he wasn’t complaining about getting to stroke through that luscious blond head hair that lay on his chest while he whispered every compliment he knew in English.

Gabriel woke up Thursday morning to a phone call at a time he thought was much too unreasonable to wake a man up.

He was still in Nico’s hotel room, sprawled half across his chest, legs tangled with each other like cabled headphones. He almost groaned at the sound, thinking he had forgotten to turn off his alarm, only to realise it was a phone call.

He carefully untangled himself from Nico’s sleeping form, smiling a little at how soft he looked. Gone was the teasing, smiling man he was used to, but this one was still his, and he still loved him just as much.

The sheets were cold on his skin when he moved away from the warmth created by their bodies, but he didn’t have time to dwell on putting on some clothes, since his phone was still ringing. He reached over to the bedside table to grab it, yawning quietly as he muttered, “Morning.”

”Don’t ‘morning’ me,” Sophie’s voice answered him, sounding just as annoyed at him as she always was. He rolled his eyes, thankful she couldn’t see it, as she continued. “You left my message on read yesterday.”

Gabi raised an eyebrow, confused. “What message?”

”Great. So you didn't even read it.” She sighed, pausing for a moment before she read it, or, at least, he assumed she did.

”’Good evening, please let me know if you can make it to the paddock tomorrow at ten. Peter wants to have a word with you.’”

”Oh,” he muttered, remembering what the message was about. He noticed Sophie sending him something, and he read the first part, but he was in the middle of having dinner with Nico, and told himself he’d look at it later. Which he completely forgot about. He moved his phone to check the time.

”Why are you calling me at seven if the meeting’s at ten?”

”Did you want me to call you at ten, when we’d already started without you?”

Gabi mumbled a sarcastic reply back, sighing as he looked around the room. He could probably stop at his hotel to put on something formal before going to the paddock if he left in less than an hour, and even have enough time for a shower in between.

”I just meant, you know, I could use another hour of sleep before a race weekend. Not that I don’t sleep a lot already, but could try to give me the benefit of the doubt sometimes.”

The little rant was unnecessary, mostly to let out the morning dog in his eyes and get himself to come back around to the world of the living, but at the same time, it backtracked, as he felt Nico shift beside him and groan.

That gave Gabi the signal to end the call quickly, so he tried to lower his voice. “Okay, okay, I’ll be there. Rest assured, or whatever you Brits say.”

”I think you’ve done enough resting for all of us today, but whatever gets you to get here already.”

”Right, right. I’m heading out.” He grumbled back, kicking the covers off of him and swinging his legs over the bed. He would have stood up next, if not for a hand reaching for his arm. He turned to see a confused, still half-asleep Nico reaching out to him.

”Hey… where are you going?”

The wave of guilt that washed over him was completely undeserved, as the situation was harmless. He just needed to get to work; he shouldn’t feel like he was abandoning Nico for it.

But, then again, he probably should have woken him up before leaving. And he was planning to, just… later.

His face softened, taking Nico’s hand as the other shifted closer to him. “Got called in for a meeting, sorry. I’ll be back later, though. Didn’t wanna wake you this early.” he excused.

Nico huffed a breath of air, but didn’t seem too annoyed at it, as he shifted into a seating position next to Gabi. “Darling, you don’t need to apologise for-“

”Ahem,” Sophie cleared her throat on the other side of the line, making Gabi go still as he was reminded of the presence of the phone against his ear. “I’ll, are you… is that- gosh, Gabriel, just… I’ll see you there.”

She hung up immediately after, leaving a now reddened Gabi to bury his face in the crook of Nico’s shoulder while the latter laughed, according to him, “Not at the situation, just because you look really cute when you’re embarrassed.”

Gabriel wasn’t sure what to expect when he arrived at the Sauber garage at three minutes to ten, so he didn’t make any efforts to change his usual behaviour as he entered the meeting room Sophie texted him about. It was a small room with plain white walls, a wide desk that didn’t extend enough for more than two people on each side. The desk had a few papers on it, a pen, and a single condescending potted plant on the far end of it.

Other than that and Peter, who was already sitting at the desk, it was completely empty, and Gabi felt like he was fourteen again, a young kid swinging back and forth between school and karting, being called into the principal’s office for failing another test.

Peter didn’t return Gabi’s smile, either, which made him silently shudder. He looked around the room for another moment, unsure what he should do. The lack of a smile was obviously a bad sign, so he should probably try not to get on Peter’s nerves.

So should he stay standing? Or would that be disrespectful? How would he know where to sit, though? Why wasn’t Sophie here to guide him?

Peter didn’t look at him after the look they exchanged when he entered, instead opting to look through his papers. Gabi took a breath, trying to relax as he took the seat closest to the door. He tried not to think about the meeting, why he was the only one there, or why Peter seemed so… professional.

He busied himself by pulling out his phone. The time read, 10:01.

He opened WhatsApp and started typing to Sophie.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

You’re late for the meeting

He hesitated, shifting the phone in his hands for a moment as he debated what to say.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Am I gonna get reprimanded?

While he waited for a reply, the meeting room door opened again, and in walked Pedro, along with a nervous-looking man in a suit following behind him. Well, he was nervous by comparison to Pedro, at least, who looked like he was on his way to a funeral.

His eyes locked with Pedro’s for just a moment as he walked inside, and he could tell he had been crying. Gabi averted his eyes to the floor.

Peter cleared his throat, waiting until Pedro and the man took the seats beside Gabi, before he set down his papers and spoke up. ”You’re late,” he said, more accusatory than informative.

The man next to Pedro adjusted his watch as he spoke, which Gabi could vaguely recognise from some luxury magazine he had seen once. “I apologise for the tardiness. I am fully at fault for it; I should have made sure we arrived earlier.”

Peter didn’t look satisfied, but he nodded. “I understand.” He turned to Pedro, starting over. “As you can see here,” He started, grabbing one of the papers out of the pile and handing it over to Pedro, “And as we’ve discussed before, the extension clause in your contract had not been fulfilled, and will close completely as of Sunday.”

Gabi’s eyes widened, head whipping around to try and catch a glimpse of the paper, to no reward. Pedro held onto it tightly, fingers clutching the paper until it almost ripped, like if he held onto it harder, it would disappear. He looked pained, genuinely pained, like Gabi had never seen before.

He wanted to speak up, ask for another copy, question what the clause was, and most of all, understand why he had a part in any of this. But he kept quiet, because he wasn’t sure he’d be happy hearing the answer.

”I know,” Pedro finally answered, not returning Peter’s gaze.

The man, whom Gabi guessed worked for Pedro, elaborated for him. “We’re aware of that, yes. The clause was very clear, although it was written in a contract that assumed a different state of the team.”

”The state of the team doesn’t matter for the contract,” Peter explained, and Gabi felt a pang of sympathy for the man, since he wouldn’t appreciate being talked down to like that either. “We provided what the contract said, and Pedro failed to provide his part.”

”Of course, however-“ “-The contract will be terminated after the race,” Peter interrupted, making Gabi shift uncomfortably. He’d never heard him this… hostile. Maybe that wasn’t the right word. He couldn’t believe this was the same team principal who patted him on his back after every race and called him a champion in the making.

Peter continued, “And so, as of Monday, Pedro de la Rosa will no longer be a Sauber driver.”

Gabi watched Pedro’s face fall. The suited man leaned forward, tone urgent, as he tried to protest. Gabi didn’t have it in his heart to hear him and Peter going back and forth, his gaze fixed on Pedro.

He couldn’t believe that he was being treated like this. Sure, he wasn’t performing as well as Gabi was, but there were reasons. There were excuses. Although, the team didn’t really know that, did they? They had no reason to suspect that Gabi had more experience with certain upgrades of the new car, or that he had a year more experience than what he told them. They had no reason to suspect any of it, and the best explanation they could probably gauge was that Pedro had just… lost his talent.

That he wasn’t good enough to race.

The very same thing that, in 2024, so many teams told Gabi, when they signed other drivers who scored so much lower in the F2 championship instead of him. He was lucky to even get the Audi seat, honestly, since they were looking for more experienced drivers to help the team grow instead of new rising stars.

And now he was watching someone else be given that exact same slap to the face, only this one accompanied by his dreams being sliced out of his hands with a knife sharp enough to cut but not without tearing off unnecessary skin.

Actually, he wasn’t even watching that, he realised, as Pedro and the other man stood up. The latter abruptly, and the former slowly, like he wasn’t sure his legs could support him.

Since he was sitting close to the exit, Pedro walked past him on his way to the door, and their eyes locked again, just for a moment. He looked exhausted, worn out from the whirlwind of emotions that must have gone through his head during the conversation Gabi zoned out most of. He was sure that if Pedro wasn’t so tired, he would be glaring at him with the hatred reserved for the worst kinds of people ever born.

As soon as he was sure they were both out of hearing range, he took a sharp breath. When he looked at the desk again, Peter stood up, gathering his papers.

There was an eerie silence between them, like one in a horror movie. Gabi wasn’t sure what scared him more, the silence, or what could replace it.

But, curiosity got the better of him, and he ended up asking, “Am I allowed to leave now?”

Peter looked up from his papers, smiled, and nodded. “Yes, you can. Thank you for attending.”

He stood up but didn’t leave. He wasn’t sure why, but something about this felt wrong. He shifted his weight between his legs, not saying anything for a moment longer, as he watched Peter reach for a drawer under the table.

His eyes followed Peter’s hands as he pulled out a bottle of Coca-Cola and undid the cap, the quiet sizzling sounding inappropriately loud. He watched as Peter took a few long sips before turning to the plant, still sitting on the table, and he tilted the bottle towards the pot, raising it until black liquid started pouring down onto the soil. Gabi flinched at the sight.

”I don’t think you’re supposed to give them…” He spoke up, making a small gesture with his hands, “Soft drinks.”

Peter didn’t stop, emptying one third of the bottle into the pot, now overflowing with Coca-Cola mixed unevenly with soil of a similar hue. Once he finished, he looked at Gabi again.

”Since when are you an expert about plants?” He joked, the familiar, light-hearted humour this man usually carried, but Gabi couldn’t help but physically wince a bit at the undertone.

”I, well,” He stuttered, unsure what to say. He knew a good bit about plants. Fernando loved taking care of plants; they had a garden where the A14 camp was set every year, which the drivers took turns taking care of, so he dabbled in it sometimes.

But did he really want to tell him that after seeing… that?

”It was just a guess,” he ended up excusing, watching Peter laugh as he walked towards the door, bottle still in hand. He stopped in front of Gabi and tilted it towards him invitingly.

Gabi shook his head. “I’m good,” he politely rejected, but Peter just laughed and handed it to him anyway. He sighed as he watched Peter walk out of the room, leaving him alone there, the lukewarm bottle feeling out of place in his hands.

He hated Coca-Cola.

Gabriel almost felt bad when he got into the car again for practice, let alone now, when he was getting ready for qualifying. He didn’t know if this was supposed to happen.

When he was sent to the past, he didn’t know exactly which team he would be driving for. He hoped for a good one, at least one better than Sauber Ferrari, and so did the researchers working with Kick Sauber for this project. He didn’t make any particular effort to remember the courses of drivers in teams he wasn’t interested in back then.

For all he knew, this was always Pedro’s destiny, and had nothing to do with being compared to him.

But, at the same time, he knew that wasn’t entirely true. Pedro wouldn’t have to work this hard to get along with a car way ahead of its time thanks to Gabi’s advice, even if the changes were minor. Pedro wouldn’t have to be constantly compared and put up against a rookie that does so much better than him.

Pedro de la Rosa wasn’t a bad driver. He worked with Aston Martin in 2025, he remembered seeing some social media clips of him with Fernando, and with a budget like theirs, they wouldn’t hire just any driver.

So why was Peter so harsh on him?

He wasn’t used to that part of him. Peter was practically the father of Sauber; he built the team from the ground up and continued to help it grow. He was always smiling and acted so nice to him. He believed in Gabi, and evidently so. He gave him a contract, a seat, an engineer, a PR manager… now that he thought of it, Peter really did much more than the bare minimum for him.

So how was it any different than Pedro?

Peter wasn’t in about the time travel. No one was, except Fernando now, but that was Gabi’s own doing. Possibly Gabi’s own mistake, but he still wasn’t sure about that.

Fuck, and he still had to tell Nico eventually. He was so close to doing it at the restaurant, but chickened out at the last moment. He was so stupid.

He sighed as he slipped his helmet on, walking out to the track where qualifying was about to start. He exchanged a thumbs up with Amir who was setting up in his corner, and tried not to make eye contact with Pedro as he walked by.

He just… didn’t know what to say to him. Should he at all?

He should try asking Fernando. He had a lot of experience with this type of thing, he had a lot of teammates in the past. In fact, he learned a lot from Fernando’s experiences with his teammates.

From a teammate he felt bad for, Lance, ones he didn’t get along with at all, like Esteban and Lewis, ones he had a… complicated relationship with, like Felipe, teammates he adored, like Giancarlo…

And ones he still held high regard for, like his first full teammate, Jarno.

He should really talk to him after the qualifying session.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Nice P8 today

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

Thank you :)

Do you want to have lunch?

I saw a nice place near the track.

Very crowded, though.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Not right now sorry

Staying here for a bit, need to talk to someone

You have fun though

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

What makes you think I’m going without you?

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Nico

Babe

Honey

Lindo

I know you got reservations somewhere fancy

Then you’re gonna pretend you didn’t

And that they gave us free stuff because they’re fans

Go with Bruno or Karun or Vitaly

Don’t waste it

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

Where was this sharpness when I was crushing on you?

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Was busy crushing on you back

Stop distracting me anyway

We can have dinner later

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

Sounds good with me.

And you should do that more.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Do what

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

Call me pet names.

If you want to, that is.

It’s nice is what I’m saying.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Call you by my name, much?

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

I’m not entirely sure what you mean.

But if you’d like to, yes.

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Oh my god

You’ve never seen Call Me By Your Name?

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

Never heard of it.

Should I?

[ ~ Gabriel Bortoleto ]

Absofuckinglutely.

We’re watching it today.

See you for dinner, lindo

[ ~ Nico Hulkenberg ]

Can’t wait, darling :) 

Gabriel wasn’t sure what to expect from Jarno, let alone what to ask him. The goal, getting a recommendation for a bar, was clear, but the way he got there wasn’t. It would be a little strange to start a conversation with an out-of-the-blue question like that to someone you didn’t even know.

Should he mention Fernando, to try to explain why he was asking? Should he try to play it off casually, like he was just trying to get to know him? Would that be considered lying? Hell, why is he so nervous?

He tried to push those worries aside as he made his way toward the Lotus garage where Jarno should still be, probably resting after qualifying. The sessions went pretty well for him, having scored a P7, just ahead of Nico, promising an interesting race for him defence-wise. Jarno, meanwhile, was starting P17.

When he reached the garage, he realised that he wasn’t sure if he would even be allowed inside, and almost turned back around and left. But he forced himself to go inside and tap a staff member on the shoulder, asking if he could be brought to Jarno.

He was shown to his driver’s room but told to keep it short or go outside, since they didn’t particularly want drivers from other teams in their garage, which he understood. Then he was left alone with the door, and second-guessed himself just a few more times before finally knocking.

The door slowly opened after about ten seconds, cracked open just enough for Jarno to check who it was before he let it swing wider. Gabi was a good bit taller than him, which should have made him less intimidated, really, but instead, he just felt more out of place. He cleared his throat.

”Do you, uh, have a minute?”

Why did he say that? Now Jarno was probably going to think that he was trying to get life advice or something like that and turn him away. He’ll tell him to go talk to Fernando and that he isn’t here to play with rookies. That Gabi isn’t worth his time.

Jarno took in his dishevelled demeanour, cracked a small smile, and stepped aside to invite him in. “Sure, I do.”

Gabi blinked at the open doorway, hesitating just for a moment before walking inside. Why was he so awkward, damn it? He had no reason to be. All he wanted was to not look like a fool in front of a man that Fernando held in such a high regard, so why was he doing the exact opposite?

He made his way inside, standing in the middle of the room as he watched Jarno close the door and lean back against it. No sitting down, then.

”Do you need something?” He then asked, making Gabi realise he was probably waiting for him to lead the conversation.

Of course he was. Gabi was the one who came to him, not the other way. He should answer him. He should say something.

”I- no, no, all good,” he ended up dismissing, as if he was being offered water on a flight.

By god, he was such a fucking idiot.

Jarno’s smile only cracked wider at the answer, clearly amused, and he crossed his arms unthreateningly. “Alright,” he allowed gently. “What did he tell you to talk to me about?”

Gabi stared at him, blacking out. “What?”

”Fernando,” Jarno explained, “What did he tell you to talk to me about?”

Although it was true, Fernando did tell Gabi to talk to Jarno, but he found himself surprised that Jarno could guess it so quickly. It didn’t even sound like a guess; he was completely sure of himself. Which led Gabi to reply with his own question once again.

”How do you know he told me to talk to you?”

”Bortoleto, why else would you be here?”

Gabi shrugged defensively. “I don’t know, maybe I just… wanted to talk to an Italian? It’s your home race.”

Jarno didn’t look like he was buying it, and honestly, Gabi wouldn’t either if he were in his position. He wasn’t sure why he felt the urge to lie; he might have felt a bit pressured by Jarno’s presence, just because he was probably used to great rookies like Fernando that Gabi wasn’t sure he could compare to. 

Yet, Jarno seemed to entertain the idea after a moment of thought, and pushed himself off the door. “Alright, then. So you want me to tell you about Italy?”

“Um, sure.”

Gabi watched as Jarno walked to the other side of the room, passing by him, and knelt down next to the bed where he could see a mini-fridge. He kept talking through it without looking at Gabi.

”You’re going to need to be more specific if you want a better answer, but Italy is… well, it’s Italy. It’s good to be back here again, even if I’m not able to give as good a performance as I would hope to. But I suppose it’s not as bad, since there’s another Italian on the grid to make the tifozi proud. Not to mention your old man getting pole in a Ferrari.”

Gabi smiled a bit at the mention of Fernando. He was definitely proud of him for it, and he was sure the team was too. Felipe was in P3, so Ferrari had a chance for a 1-2 finish. The kind of results he used to dream of for himself as a kid.

”I’m sure there’s still a lot of fans cheering you on, though,” Gabi pointed out, trying to be positive. He felt himself relax a bit, Jarno’s chiller attitude settling his worries. “Fernando absolutely is, anyway.”

Jarno was looking through the mini-fridge as he laughed. “So he did send you?”

”I didn’t say that,” Gabi deflected, raising his hands in innocence, “I just said he’s cheering you on. Big fan of you.”

”I’d hope so,” Jarno said, finally standing up again and turning to face Gabi. “I wasn’t the best role model for a rookie back then, but Fernando was a tough kid. Broke every record possible and didn’t even need my help for it. I think I learned more from him than he did from me in those years.”

Gabi chuckled, only for his smile to curve downward when he saw the two cans of Coca-Cola in Jarno’s hands.

He must have noticed Gabi staring at them, as he offered one out, saying, “Thirsty?”

Gabi stared at it quietly for a moment before accepting the drink. He didn’t open the car, not wanting to drink from it, but he felt bad rejecting the offer. Especially since, if Peter didn’t care about him rejecting the drink, why would Jarno? They’d only just met and, although he seemed nice, so did Peter.

He sighed.

”I don’t think Fernando would agree with you on that, you know. He talks about you very highly. I think you taught him more than you think.” He hummed as a memory flashed in his mind. “He told me once about how he was worried about not getting along with the team when he joined in his first season, and that you were there to show him how to work with the engineers and team principal.”

Jarno’s eyebrows rose at the answer before his face was covered from Gabi’s sight when he took a sip of his can. “Really? He was good at hiding it, then.”

The corner of Gabi’s lips twitched up for a moment as he thought to himself that being a good liar runs in their family. The joke, even if staying in his head, only lasted about a second before he was hit with the reminder that, in fact, he could not inherit anything biologically from Fernando, nor were they a family.

The moment was short-lived, though, as Jarno spoke again. “Are you not gonna drink that?”

Gabi’s eyes followed Jarno’s to the untouched can of Coca-Cola still in his hand. It was cold to the touch, and he tried to mostly ignore its presence, but now it seemed he had to drink it. Great. “Right, yeah, I will,” he muttered, and moved his other hand to open the can.

He was stopped by Jarno stepping closer into his eyesight, his expression curling to slight concern. “You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to,” he said, and Gabi suddenly felt stupid for thinking that drinking the terrible liquid would fix the problem.

He hesitated for a moment, unsure what to do, before handing the can back over to Jarno. “Right, yes, sorry.”

”You don’t need to apologise,” Jarno insisted as he took back the can. His words didn’t hold a lot of emotion, but he could clearly see something was wrong, which made Gabi feel strangely exposed. “Bortoleto, you don’t have to take something from someone if you don’t want to.”

Gabi wasn’t sure if he should feel cared for or attacked. It was a strange mix of both that confused him in a way that made his head and chest hurt. He didn’t come here for a life lesson, especially one he didn’t exactly understand the purpose of, but it did make him wonder just for a moment, if he should take something in Jarno’s words to heart.

After a beat of silence, he answered, “It’s Gabi.”

”What?”

”It’s Gabi, not Bortoleto.” He said, before quickly clarifying, “Not that it’s not my last name, but just… call me Gabi.”

Jarno looked at him with an unreadable expression for a moment before a gentle smile replaced it. “Right, Gabi.”

It’s not like there was something wrong with his name; Gabi was proud of his family, but he always hated being referred to by his last name. It felt indirect and insincere, especially when someone called him that to his face. Besides, Bortoleto could refer to both Gabriel and Enzo, and he didn’t want all his brother’s achievements to be forgotten because of him.

But Jarno didn’t ask him the reason. He didn’t even try, just accepted Gabi’s request and went with it. It wasn’t a big deal, he supposed, just a name, but it still meant more to him than Jarno knew. Maybe that was why he did it; it took such a little effort but had an impact so much bigger than he could ever imagine.

And Gabi smiled again.

Then, just before he could forget, “Wait, one more thing,” He waited for Jarno’s eyes to meet his again before continuing, “Do you know any good bars nearby? Like, somewhere you’d take your friends out to celebrate if you won the race today. You know, hypothetically.”

Jarno laughed at the question, but after reminiscing about his earlier years of success in the country, he gave Gabi the location of ‘a fantastic place with even better drinks’ to go enjoy himself in, which Gabi was more than glad to take.

The race did not, in fact, end with a 1-2 for Ferrari, but Fernando did get the win with Jenson and Felipe following on the podium in that order. Gabi crossed the line 5th after a long battle with both Mark and Rosberg, which he won from a mix of luck, speed, and mistakes on both of his opponents’ sides.

In his last race with the team, Pedro de la Rosa scored a 14th-place finish. Gabi felt bad seeing him out of the points, honestly, and he debated if he should go talk to him and apologise, but ended up not doing so. The man who accompanied Pedro in the meeting with Peter held a small goodbye party for him that Gabi didn’t attend, since he planned to meet with the rookies in the restaurant Jarno recommended at the same time.

Jarno finished P15, not the best result for an Italian driver that day, and certainly not what made Italian fans the most patriotic that day, but he seemed happy with it, and Gabi knew that was more important than the fan perception.

Nico finished 7th, and to celebrate their good results, Gabi wanted them to watch Call Me By Your Name, only to realise it was released a few years after 2010, and thus didn’t exist.

Which was a massive disappointment to him, and to Nico too, who had to listen to Gabi hype up the film over their dinner.

However, the book had been out for a good few years, and the author was Italian, so they managed to get a copy of the book after a day spent searching around for it, and decided they’d start reading it together.

Gabriel was no stranger to going out for a drink with friends. They’d drive to a pub or a bar, find a table, get wasted, and take cab rides home or stick one of their friends with the responsibility of getting everyone home.

They hadn’t coordinated a driver, so Gabi assumed they were doing the former.

When he and Nico arrived at the bar Jarno had recommended, he could immediately tell why he liked it. The place was big but not too crowded, music played at a volume where he could still hear Nico just fine, and, as he would have later found out, the booze was great.

Gabi spotted Vitaly waving them over from one of the large tables, Sebastien already sitting there with another driver on the grid that he didn’t think he’d ever talked to before. When he and Nico joined them, Sebastien gestured to him and explained, “Hope you don’t mind that Jaime’s also joining us. Our team and HRT booked rooms from the same hotel, so we figured we’d get someone to drive all of us back together.”

“Fair enough,” Gabi allowed, “As long as he doesn’t mind being in charge of a bunch of drunk idiots.”

”Who told you I’m an idiot drunk?” Sebastien countered as they shared a laugh across the table.

They spent a few more minutes making small talk until Bruno arrived next, looking unsurprisingly down, though Gabi could tell he was trying to be hopeful. It has to feel weird to go to a party for your ex, he imagined, especially if you still had feelings for him.

Waiting worked for him, though. In some parts of his relationship with Nico, at least. So why wouldn’t it work for Bruno?

It took about ten more minutes for Karun and Lucas to arrive, which was their sign to finally order drinks.

They started out with a round of shots, of course, to cheer for Karun’s ‘freedom’ from the hell of the HRT management. After those, each driver got a beer, and from there, Gabi stopped paying attention to what everyone else was ordering and instead focused on making sure his own glass was never empty.

He didn’t have a particularly high tolerance, but, fuck it, today was a day to cheer up, and damn him if he wasn’t getting hammered.

And, by the sound of the laughter around the table, he could tell he wasn’t the only one.

Vitaly’s cheeks were flushed, and his grin was even bigger than usual, slurring whatever joke came to mind at every possible instant. Karun was practically off his chair laughing, hunched forwards clutching his stomach like it hurt to smile this much. Gabi suspected he ordered something stronger, and honestly, he couldn’t blame him if he did

Lucas found the remote to the TV screen playing a bit off to the side, and he switched to some news broadcast, to which he, Nico and Bruno started a drinking game to. He tried to join in at some point, but the most he could understand from their made-up rules was, “Whenever he rhymes… stuff, you drink. So easy!”

He couldn’t understand how ‘rain’ rhymed with ‘weekend’ or why they thought ‘storm’ rhymed with just ‘storm’ again, but they seemed to be having a good time, so he didn’t interrupt their game.

This left him to turn to Sebastien, who seemed to be unfruitfully trying to convince Jaime that white chocolate was better than milk chocolate.

So, without bothering to pay attention to the line said before him, he interrupted with, “White chocolate’s good, but you can’t… You don’t just eat it by itself. You need’ta add it onto something… like, Kinder chocolate.”

Sebastien turned to Gabi, staring at him in confusion for a second, before he burst out laughing. “Yea, yea, but like… Kinder is good, but… also just, a white chocolate bar. Nothing else. It’s more…” he made a noncoherent gesture with his hands.

Jaime raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair with an amused huff. Gabi could tell this wasn’t his first time being stuck listening to a more-than-a-little-tipsy Sebastien rant about something. “More what? Favourable? Tasty? Good?”

”More better,” Sebastien concluded.

Gabi reached across the table to give Sebastien’s shoulder a playful shove. “You can’t say that,” he giggled, “More better. That’s just… more good. But twice.”

”Twice the good!” Sebastien concluded, reaching to take another gulp from his cup before setting it down harshly on the table. “White chocolate is a hundred times the good, though. So that’s like… how many betters?”

” Ninety-nine, by that logic,” Jaime offered, before sighing into his hand. “Why am I even entertaining this?”

Both Gabi and Sebastien burst into another fit of laughter, before the latter started talking again. If that could even be considered talking, since Gabi was surprised he could even make out what was coming out of his mouth.

”You’re just jealous,” He laughed, before turning to Gabi, continuing with, “Jaime don’t know shit when it comes to, eh… chocolate. I’m Swiss, whole culture is about chocolate. He’s Spanish, no chocolate in that blood.” He gave Jaime a playful elbow in the ribs, “Isra’s also Spanish, only eats dark… no value to real chocolate.”

Jaime froze at the answer, and Gabi almost wondered for a moment if he was offended by the suggestion that his culture made him less passionate about chocolate. But then he replayed the words in his head to find the problem with them, and instead realised, “Who’s Isra?”

”It’s no one, Sebby’s just drunk and-“ “-Jaime’s boyfriend,” Sebastien interrupted, before going on to give another sentence or three that Gabi wasn’t paying attention to.

And that word rang in his head. Boyfriend.

He glanced to his other side, just for a moment, where Nico sat, smile wide and voice loud as he laughed in between shots with Bruno and Lucas. No matter how many times he stared at that man, he could never get over just how beautiful he really was. He felt almost overwhelmed, his senses filled with the knowledge that Nico was his, and nothing could ever take him away from him.

He let out a shuddered breath that couldn’t be heard over the talking, Jaime and Sebastien probably arguing on his left, Nico muttering slurred words on his right. His hands twitched by his sides; he needed to reach out to Nico, he needed to talk to him, he needed to touch him, he needed to tell him just how much he adored him.

If he were to take another moment to think it over, he would have probably realised how bad a decision this was.

But, who cared to think when he had alcohol in his liver? So he felt absolutely no shame when he whined loudly enough for Nico to turn around and look at him, draping an arm over his shoulders and leaning into his side like he had every right to. Which, of course he did. Nico was his boyfriend. He should show him how much he loved him, just in case he forgot. Just to make sure he never will.

”Nico baby,” he whined, mouth too close to his ear, body too hot for his own good. His other hand slid onto Nico’s thigh under the table, and he felt him go still.

Nico’s face was already red, but Gabi swore it flushed a deeper shade of crimson. “Gabi? We’re, you… you’re… close.”

”I wanna be close to you,” he hummed in protest, barely aware of his own actions as he leaned further into Nico. “I wanna hold you…”

Nico laughed, and Gabi couldn’t place his tone between the options of nervous and delighted.

”You… quite are,” He muttered, turning half to face Gabi. He was silent for a moment, and Gabi took the chance to just close his eyes, freed from every worry on his mind. From Jaime, whose liver was empty of alcohol, from Bruno and Lucas, who were probably staring at them, from Karun, who this day was supposed to be about, and from any other person in that bar. He opened them again when Nico asked, “Do you want me to… also, hold you?”

”Mhm.”

”Uh huh?”

”Yes.”

Gabi didn’t move an inch for the better remainder of that night, the only difference being that Nico’s arm was pressed to his back, and that his hand was tracing circles on top of Nico’s pants. He joined the shots game at some point, being more than happy to just drink when everyone else did, and at some point, he realised that everyone else was doing the same thing as he did, and just taking a shot when they saw someone else at the table raise their mug. A different game entirely, but still enjoyable.

Then again, at that point, he wouldn’t be surprised if he was noticing patterns over nothing.

When the news broadcast ended, they did end up returning their attention to Karun, but Gabi hardly remembered anything else that was said that night. And at the end of it, he and Nico were left stumbling outside in the soberingly freezing air, waiting for a cab, while Sebastien, Bruno, and Karun were ushered into a car by Jaime.

He gave Gabi one last awkward wave before he left, which Gabi returned, wondering why the guy he barely knew was waving to him.