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Chapter Text

Max stirred in his bed as he felt the warmth of the sunrise on his face. Beside him in bed was his boyfriend Charles, and somewhere by the foot of the bed were two of his cats. One of said cats, Sassy, jumped onto him, pawing at his face. 

“Alright, alright I’m up.” the man muttered groggily as he sat up. Jimmy, perked up at the possibility of food and treats. It was Christmas morning, and Max spent a large chunk of the night awake wrapping Charles’ (and some of the cats) gifts. He was tired, cold, and wanted to stay in the warm comfort that was his own bed.

“Charles,” Max said, gently shaking his shoulder. “Wake up.” The man stirred, rolling over to face him, before his eyes slowly opened, green eyes shining in the morning light. 

“Morning Max,” he said as he sat up to kiss the Dutchman, immediately being hit with the biting cold. “Merry Christmas.” He felt Max smile against his lips, pulling away before he could fully get his arm around him to pull him back down. He got up alongside Charles, picking up his cats as he did. When they got to the kitchen, Max got to feeding Jimmy and Sassy, before turning around to look at the Christmas tree nestled into the corner of the living room, the presents stacked onto each other serving as a barrier.

He looked on with wonder at the tree, which was tackily decorated with bright colourful lights, garland, and ornaments that definitely did not belong together side by side. He looked up at the star, which was something Charles had from when he was a kid. The lights twinkled and danced, shining brightly above all the other decorations. It reminded him of the Monegasque, who was still fussing over coffee. The man, who lit up his whole world when they first met, and stood front and center above everything else in the Dutchman's life. The man, who helped him at his lowest points, knew him since their karting days, had now made a home on what was at one point Max’s practically sparse tree. As he looked out the window of his penthouse to the snow blanketed streets of Monaco below, Max knew this was home. It wasn’t just a place for him to crash between breaks anymore, he was home, and Charles was too. He glanced down at the colourful presents that guarded the tree, with glittering paper waiting to be torn to shreds, and couldn’t help the boyish smile that spread across his face.

A hand slid around his waist, and Max was instantly brought back to the present by Charles, who rested his head on his shoulder while pressing the small mug of coffee into his fingers. A Kiss landed on his cheek.

“Max, are you really that excited to open the gifts?” Charles inquired as the Dutchman quietly took a sip of his coffee, which was on the sweeter side today. He didn’t really know how to explain to the Monegasque how much gratitude he had for him being in his life, but he might as well answer his question, judging how the cats were already trying to rip into a few select gifts.

“Yeah, I think so.” The two settled themselves on the floor, occasionally passing gifts back and forth. Charles kissed Max with each gift that was given to him, and Max would do the same until they were both sprawled out on the floor, wrapping paper scattered around them, a case of Red Bull, some beers, FIFA merch, wine bottles, along with various sweaters and cat toys piled somewhere while they kissed tenderly, a softness enveloping them as they pulled each other close. They laid there for what seemed like hours as snowflakes fell outside, and as Max pulled away to look at Charles, he saw a smile that shone as brightly as the star on top of the tree, and couldn’t help himself to pull the Monegasque man in one more time for a kiss, keeping the shimmering star all to himself.

Chapter Text

December 23, 1991.

The grid's annual Christmas party was in full swing, with various drivers doing things ranging from dancing, chugging back drink after drink, or just having a good  time overall as Christmas music thumped loudly through the various speakers around the house. Alain sat on the stool by a bar, nursing a glass of wine. He watched Niki and James dancing rather erratically, both of them being incredibly intoxicated and occasionally stumbling into each other. Gilles and a few other guys were chatting over beers, and that asshat of a man Ayrton? He was probably off with some woman, getting shitfaced like the rest of the pilots here, overall having the time of his life, or telling everyone how much better he was at the sport than Alain. The Frenchman pretended he didn’t care, yet the thought kind of bothered him a little. Ayrton was cocky and confident, so sure he was better than him, yet was in the sport for far less time than he was, still in his prime yet acting like he was untouchable. The shorter man's eyes swept across the space one final time, before a hand landed on his shoulder, startling him. He turned around to see Ayrton, wearing an adorable Santa hat that drooped over his face, holding a cup of hot chocolate in his hand.

“Hi Alain,” he greeted, giving him a lopsided grin. Alain couldn’t help but smile back.

“Hi Ayrton.”

The Brazilian parked himself on the stool beside him, drinking his hot cocoa. “What’s the professor doing all by himself?” He smirked at him, and Alain deadpanned, swirling the wine in his glass

“I guess dancing isn’t really my thing?” he lied. In reality, the thought of being stuck with a dozen or so drunk people blasting “Last Christmas” and toppling over each other didn’t sound the most appealing to him, not tonight anyways. He just wanted to be at home right now, reading, having wine, and maybe decorating his house for the holidays. 

“Liar, you’re always up for such things,” the taller man huffed, turning away from him, as if he was personally insulted by Alain’s remark. The man in question sighed.

“Ayrton, I didn’t even want to come. The grid parties are always loud, and someone always gets piss drunk, and-”

“We could go somewhere quieter, Upstairs maybe?” 

Alain looked at Ayrton like he was stupid. This guy really was familiar with the concept of switching things up. One moment he hates Alain and the next, he’s begging him to stay at some stupid Christmas party? What’s his deal?

“The night’s not over yet Alain, please.”

I need you… 

Alain wasn’t really sure if he was the drunk one, imagining the man in front of him profess his need to be with him, or if Ayrton actually said it. Alain looked down into his now empty glass. He supposed going with the man wasn’t such a bad idea, since it gave him a chance to get away from what he hated so much about the party.

“Alright, I’ll come, but just once,” the shorter man replied, standing up with the taller man and walking with him upstairs. Suddenly, by one of the bedrooms, Ayrton stops, setting the cup down as an old Christmas tune came on, slow and sweet.

“One last dance, Alain?” He asked, holding his hand out. Alain looked down to the bottom of the stairs, where drivers were still partying, the two of them now alone. Emboldened, he too held out his hand, and Ayrton grabbed his wrist. The two entered a slow waltz around the room, music filling their ears and guiding their movements. The Frenchman would open his eyes in some moments to see the snow falling outside, and the Brazilian looking down at him so fondly, with such a soft smile that he shut his eyes again, quietly relishing in his affection. 

When the song ended, Alain found himself back at the doorway of the room, in the hallway, and Ayrton standing on the other side, hand still gripping his wrist. There was a quiet tension in the room, and as he opened his eyes, the shorter man saw the taller man sweetly smile at him, before looking up. Right above their heads was a small bundle of mistletoe. They looked back at each other, and the Brazilian tugged him towards him by the wrist, pulling him into a kiss. It was short and sweet, and to Alain, it felt like climbing onto the podium, riding the high of first place, anticipating the feeling of cold champagne against his clothes and skin just for Ayrton to finally pull away. Alain looked into his eyes.

“Will I ever see you again?” He asked softly with a smile, flirting really. Ayrton looked almost sad the night had to end, as he heard the sounds of people filing out the door downstairs, and hated to hold the Frenchman up.

“Go home Alain, I’ll see you after break.”

And so Alain turned and left…

Chapter Text

The alarm clock blared into what was probably the best dream Michael had ever had. One where he found himself in the arms of his neighbour, Mika. All the man could do was thank God he was off work, and didn’t have to deal with pulling his car out of the driveway after the snowstorm that came and went last night. Rolling out of bed, he was instantly hit with the biting cold on his bare chest, reaching for a blanket as he made his way to the window. There, to his amazement, was Mika, who was shoveling snow that went up to his knees. The German always remembered insisting that the Finn just invest in a snowblower like he himself had, but the man was stubborn, and that’s what he loved about him. The taller man quickly moved from the window, closing the curtains and throwing on fresh clothes, before quickly moving to the bathroom to brush his teeth and tidy himself up. He walked downstairs, nearly tripping as he did so. Pouring himself a thermos of coffee, he put his coat on, a bright red one with the Ferrari logo that he got at some store out of town, his boots, mitts, and a scarf, and finally headed out. 

However, Michael missed something. The stoop that led to his house was shrouded in snow, and he missed it entirely, sinking straight in and falling to his knees, now thoroughly covered in snow, and freezing. To his embarrassment as he stood up, he saw Mika looking at him from next door, gray shovel in hand and concern etched onto his face. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of him.

“Are you alright, Michael?”

Michael didn’t respond for a good minute. “...yes? Yes I am Mika.” He fumbled for the keys to his garage, retreating and opening the door. He started up the snowblower, one painted bright red like his jacket. Once it was running, he pushed it out the door and began clearing away the snow that piled up on his driveway, occasionally looking over at his neighbour, who was still stubbornly shoveling away. The German cleared away the snow, before taking the snowbrush and delicately clearing away the ice and snow that built up on his car, which was also painted a nice red. The gentle kiss of a snowflake perched itself on his nose, as tender as he imagined the Finnish man's lips to be on his own. He snuck a glance over again, and now he decided he needed to help his neighbour. He turned his snowblower off, before lugging it over the thirty steps to his neighbours’ driveway.

“Hey neighbour!” He cheerfully called as the snowblower dragged like a deadweight behind him.

“Hello Michael,” Mika replied, continuing to shovel.

“Would you like some help? I, er.. brought my snowblower over, it’ll help move things along faster?” Michael suddenly felt smaller and more nervous, despite being taller than Mika, who simply looked at the snowblower that was stickerbombed with various Ferrari and F1 stickers. It really wasn’t a shock how obsessed with the sport the guy was. A small smile formed on Mika’s face at the sight, and Michael couldn’t help but look away, face about to burn hot.

“I think not, but thank you.”

“Really? It’s brand new, gets the job done quicker, gets done in minutes what takes you hours to do.” Michael was now grasping for straws to be able to at the very least keep talking with him. Finally Mika sighed, caving in.

“Fine Michael, you can help me clear the drive.” 

Michael was ecstatic. “Alright! You won’t regret this one bit.” He fired up the snowblower once again, and started on clearing away all the snow from the Finn’s driveway, feeling the snow crunch under his feet, and the frosty air nip at his face. It didn’t help that his neighbour was watching him with a quiet yet intense scrutiny, and the German wondered if maybe the Finn was admiring his hard work as he listened to the thrum of the engine and the snow being put back in its rightful place. It wasn’t until he heard Mika shriek and curse in Finnish that he opened his eyes.

“Augh! MICHAEL!!” Michael turned to look and see he had accidentally hit Mika with a stream of snow. Michael panicked

“I’m so sorry Mika!” Michael rushed over to sweep the snow off the Finn, only to be met with a wad of snow being shoved down his back, eliciting a sharp hiss. Retaliating, he picked up a wad of snow and threw it right back at the other man. Mika tried to dodge the snowball, before he ran forward and playfully shoved Michael forward, who pushed him forward until he fell back into the snow. Suddenly, as the man came down from the shock of the cold, a handful of snow was dumped on his face, and he grunted, reaching to take the Finn down with him. Mika came down with a firm ‘oomph!’ as Michael crawled towards him to deal the final blow, only for the Finnish man to pounce on him as they wrestled like boys in the snow, shouting and throwing snow wherever it could stick, until every square inch of them were covered in soft white snow, cheeks rosy and hats strewn somewhere in the front lawn, and laughing like there was no tomorrow. They were now half on top of each other, Michael looking up at Mika with a fondness in his eyes, feeling the blonde’s warm breath on his face.

“You’re wonderful Mika. Have I ever told you that?”

“No, not really. You’re a really helpful neighbour when you’re not getting snow on my face,” the blonde breathed out with a smile, making Michael blush and look away.

“Well, thanks then,” Michael said, reaching up to place a gloved hand on
Mika’s cheek, the other man hissing at the cold contact. Well, it was now or never. In a moment like this, who wouldn’t take a chance? The brunette pulled the other closer and stole a kiss, quick, soft, and selfish. The blonde shivered, and Michael rolled out from beneath him before he got the opportunity to kiss back.

“I'm freezing,” Michael said, standing up, and reaching down to help the other stand.

“Then come inside Michael,” Mika said, and Michael would be damned if he admitted he liked how the Finn said his name. “I have hot cocoa. It'll warm you up nicely,” he added. Michael dragged his bright red snowblower up to Mika’s garage door, mouthing a quiet ‘thanks’ to it as if it could respond, before scurrying up the stoop to Mika’s front door and nearly slipping as he followed the man inside.

Chapter Text

James sat in front of Niki, glass of whiskey in one hand and a roll of bandages in another. It wasn’t either of their favourite things to do, changing Niki’s bandages, but in order for them to go on their date, Niki’s bandages needed to be fresh and clean. James took a swig of the liquor, before passing it back to Niki to down the rest of, he’d need it anyways. Once that was out of the way, Niki set the glass aside gently and took a breath in, mentally preparing himself for the pain that would be removing bandages that stick themselves to skin grafts. James unhooked a safety pin, slowly unraveling the dirty bandages while Niki let out a pained hiss. It wasn’t as bad as the first time they had to do this, but they got better as time went on. Once the dirty bandages were off and the wounds cleaned, James gently wrapped his lover’s head up in fresh bandages again, before kissing his head, and sliding a toque on him. He got up, throwing the dirty bandages in the bin before bundling up and waiting for Niki at the door, before they walked outside.

Walking around the neighbourhood in the dark was something the two men were used to, as they could hold hands without many people seeing them, and James could see his beautiful boyfriend under the sparkling Christmas lights outside. Under the falling snow, James moved his hand from Niki’s to his shoulder, pulling him closer beside him as the weather got colder. When they arrived at their usual date spot, which was a park, James instantly butted out whatever cigarette he was smoking and dropped to his knees, trying to roll together a snowman. He rolled around each snowball as large as they could possibly get, struggling to lift them onto each other. Niki tried to lend a hand at one point, but James had sworn up and down that Niki shouldn’t worry about the heavy lifting. When that was finished the two men looked at their weird snow child, and then each other, before James smiled, and the two kissed. Niki tied his scarf around the neck of the snowman before they started walking to their next date stop.

Chapter Text

*Flick*

*Click*

*Click click*

Kimi was getting pretty sick of channel surfing, sitting on his ass was never his thing anyways, especially since he had already paced up and down his house as he waited for Sebastian to come back from the kitchen with what was assured to be ‘the best hot cocoa’ he was ever gonna taste. They had already baked, watched a ton of cheesy Christmas romance movies, and even decorated a gingerbread house. The itinerary was clear, yet Kimi was still bored. He lazily lifted his head from the couch, calling up to the kitchen.

“Sebastian? Are you done yet?”

“Almost!” Called the German, the sound of clattering spoons and various objects being heard from the kitchen. “Just uh… finishing up! Yeah, finishing..” 

Kimi continued to sit idly on the couch, twiddling his thumbs as he eyed the DVD of Die Hard on the coffee table, which Seb had insisted they watch later. He then looks to the snow falling outside, and thinks of Sebastian and his bright blue eyes, who was as beautiful as he was vaguely immature. The sound that finally made the Finn get up from the couch was the sound of something really loud clattering and a yelp of pain. Concerned, he briskly strides over to the kitchen to see the German man had dropped a mug and cut his finger pretty good. Kimi helped him pick up the pieces, which turned out to be one of Sebastian's favorite mugs, while the other went upstairs to go look for a Bandaid. He looked towards the pot on the stove, and the rather intricate recipe on the counter with bold letters at the top that screamed ‘perfect hot cocoa’. Kimi will be the judge of that one, as he dips a spoon into the pot and takes a small sip. It was bitter, and not perfect at all, but the Finn would never tell the other one that. This was only their second date after all, and the German had spent all day trying to please him, and would probably be crushed if he found out his date didn’t like the hot cocoa he spent the better part of an hour trying to make, so Kimi raided the pantry and found something sweet to slip inside the pot, and when he tried it again, it was a much needed improvement.

When Sebastian came back down, Kimi turned back around to face him, spoon right by his mouth. Sebastian faintly smiled and asked:

“Well, was it good?”

“It needed something a little sweeter, but you make up for that, no?” The Finn replied as he pressed a kiss to the Germans cheek, feeling the skin beneath his lips flush and burn up in an adorable way. The two got to work preparing everything, Kimi taking the cookies Sebastian had only mentioned making now, and Sebastian got to pouring the hot cocoa, adding the whipped cream, and crushed candy cane bits. They finally cuddled up together on the couch, sipping quietly while they watched Die Hard, something Sebastian insisted on when he heard Kimi mention it. The German cuddled as close as possible to the Finn, and kept feeding him tree shaped cookie after cookie. Even when the movie was long finished, and the sweets and drinks emptied, the two men couldn’t find it in themselves to separate, so they laid there on the couch, with the Finn running his slender fingers through the Germans dirty blonde hair, while the other traces various patterns over the other man’s chest. They would fall asleep like that together, the main menu music of the DVD looping on end for hours, and both men wishing this second date would never end.

Chapter Text

Daniel was lugging his GT Snow racer from the garage, while Max looked on, headlamp turned to the highest setting. The two men were going tobogganing in the dark, down a hill they always frequented at a time when nobody else would be there. In Max’s hand, attached to a string was a long blue toboggan that he had had since he was a kid. Yeah, it was beaten up, but Daniel knew Max loved it and couldn’t bear to let it go. When he finally got his beloved snow racer out of the garage, he shut the door, and turned to face Max, who nodded with a smile, accidentally shining the headlamp into Daniel’s eyes. The two men set off, walking throughout the neighbourhood, the streetlamps shining down on them, before they finally made it to a hill. Rumor had it in town that in a few months time, it was gonna be turned into a supermarket of some kind, and as of right now, it was just a massive pit cleared out years ago. All the neighbourhood kids and grownups went tobogganing down here, and as the Australian looked down into the seemingly bottomless pit, he felt a twinge of fear as he remembered how steep the hill was, but when he turned to look at the Dutchman, who had the fattest grin on his face, he realized that it would all be OK as he turned on his headlamp and boarded his snow race. Max settled down on his toboggan as Daniel was taking a breath, and before he knew it, the little blonde shit reached over and full on pushed him down, leaving him to panic and try and control the steering wheel, before settling into whoops and cheers as the wind blew through his hair and the adrenaline coursed through his veins. When he finally came to a halt, he looked up into the beam of light that shone down at him. 

“Max Verstappen you shithead! You scared me!” he couldn’t help but let a hearty laugh bubble up through his chest. Max had yelled something he couldn’t hear, but that didn’t exactly matter as the Dutchman quickly slid down the hill, screaming like a little girl as he did so before skidding to a halt by the Australian. He looked out of breath, windswept hair and all, and it was handsome. Daniel ran and pushed him over into the soft snow, before taking his snow racer and staggering up the hill, Max quickly following behind. When they got to the top, the two men settled back on their sleds to race each other down the hill. Daniel had the advantage of a steering wheel, and would try and point the ski’s at Max to try and knock him off course, which only worked maybe once or twice. They raced like this constantly for a while, both remaining at a constant tie. Max eventually convinced Daniel they needed to build a ramp, and slide down it, and so they did. The two men sat at an angle on the hill, packing as much snow as they possibly could into a ramp large enough to give them just a hair of airtime.

Finally back at the top of the hill, Max settled at the front of the large toboggan, while Daniel sat behind him, leaning forward just enough to feel the other man against him, but not enough to raise concern. He had harbored feelings for him for quite a while during their friendship, and spending this much time with him always made his heart do flips, seeing the Dutchman laugh and smile the way he does. Daniel smiled against him as Max used both hands to try and push them down, only to fail.

“Danny come on! Push! You’re like a dead weight, I can’t push us both!” Max said, in his usually shrill voice and accent, it was like music to the Australian's ears. Daniel obliged, pushing his fingers into the ground at the same time Max did, and pushing them both forward down the hill. The Dutchman kept up, pushing to gain more momentum, lifting his hands just before the ramp, and gripping the sides of the toboggan. For a moment, it felt like they hit a massive bump, and then like they were flying, before hitting the ground, the sled cutting into the snow and sending the two men hurtling forwards, rolling in the snow that kicked up around them before they stopped a little ways away from each other. Daniel looked up, noting his headlamp was lost along the way, somewhere in the snow, but found Max shining brightly at him, before getting up, nearly falling while laughing and staggering over to him.

“Are you ok man? I mean… that was awesome and all, but seriously, are you alright? You look hurt.” Max said, his voice teetering a fine line between panic and adrenaline fueled joy. Daniel didn’t know if he was alright, but as he reached to touch his own face under Max’s light and drawing back blood, he panicked, but only until max said:

“Let's go back up, I brought first aid in case something like this happens,” he laughed. Daniel took his hand, standing and wincing as he felt a sharp pain in his ankle, but not wanting to worry the Dutchman, he didn’t bring it up as the two staggered up the hill. When they arrived back at the Australian’s snow racer, Max dug around in his bag, triumphantly producing a first aid kit, before stepping closer to Daniel to clean his wounds and patch up the cuts on his face from the ice he struck on his fall. The shorter man was so close that Daniel could feel his breath on his face, and when his hands reached up to cradle his face just for a second, Daniel swore he could’ve had a heart attack and died, and be perfectly ok with it. Max stepped away from him after a moment of smoothing over the small Band-Aids, voice now just a faint whisper.

“I think there’s one more thing Danny…” and he leaned in to kiss him. Daniel pretty much short circuited, before sighing into the kiss and wrapping his arms around him, putting all the pent up feelings he had into such a simple gesture. All seemed right in the world under the orange streetlights and falling snow until the Australian’s injured foot slipped on a patch of ice, causing him to slip and take the Dutchman with him, and before they knew it, they were tumbling down the hill again in a tangle of limbs and breathless laughter. At least they can go looking for Daniel’s headlamp now.

Chapter Text

Oscar Piastri was somebody Lando was glad to call his boyfriend. He was a man who was so sweet and kind, and was right perched on the counter, carefully putting together bits of a gingerbread house. Lando pressed a kiss to the Australians head, as he whisked up a giant bowl of icing as per Oscars request. When the two men sat at the table, Lando ate the candies and assembled his house while the other focused on making sure everything on his was just perfect. Oscar reached down to pet their cat Midge with one hand, before going straight back to icing intricate details on his house. The British man kept icing the walls of his own house, trying to put it up faster than the Australian, who was already done putting up the main walls. If there was one thing to know about Lando, it was that he was incredibly competitive when it came to certain things, even against his own boyfriend. Oscar took his time to understand, to learn, to adapt, and that helped him to succeed even when he didn’t get it the first try. Oscar was everything Lando wasn’t, and as the Brits house fell down for the fourth and final time, while the Australians stood tall, he set the piping bag down and slouched in his chair. The other man looked at him with a small smile on his face, setting down his own piping bag to let the icicles dry, and coming to see what the problem was.

“You need to be patient, hon. Rushing won’t get you anywhere.” He massaged the ache that was starting to form in the other's neck from being hunched over for the better part of an hour. “You always rush and put too much into it at once, and wonder why things go wrong.” Oscar's fingers pressing into the point of contact between his neck and shoulder felt pretty good. He then noted the mess that was his house, before the Australians' hands slid on top of his own.

“Can I maybe help you with this?” and he plopped himself right beside him. Lando nodded.

“Yeah, I think I could use it,” he laughed.

“You could.” 

So Lando carefully spread the icing over the sides of the house, while Oscar helped hold it together before several walls were able to stand on their own. They finally got to the roof, where they both struggled as the pieces kept sliding down or just not holding up entirely. Eventually, the two would get the roof on, and the Brit would add the final stripe of icing along the top to connect it all. Oscar would reach into the bowl by them to start decorating Lando's house, only to find the bowl completely empty.

“Lando.”

“Sorry, I couldn't help myself. They’re very good.”

“LANDO!” The Brit jumped out of his chair as the other man got up to chase him down, the two running around the kitchen and bottom floor of their house as the Australian sought out justice for the offensive action. All their ruckus and a bump against the kitchen island rattled Lando’s freshly built house, causing it to comically fall apart, Lando staring in shock.

“Oh…” was all that came out. Oscar wrapped himself around the Brit, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. 

“I’ll fix it, just let me finish my house, ok?” He gestured to the beautifully decorated house, which was now just missing pieces of candy that Lando had eaten not long ago. So he decided to make it up to him by letting him finish at the cost of his own favourite candies.

Chapter Text

Niki was a man of seemingly few words, and when he spoke those few words, it was either something incredibly dickish and rude, or somewhat of a reasonable take. He lived across the street from James, who always noted how seemingly lackluster his decorations were year after year. He was also a person James was incredibly fond of, and found himself stopping to talk to him when they crossed paths at the grocers every Sunday. He also noted that wherever he went, Niki was almost always alone, and that resulted in him stopping by every single Friday night to chat over whatever kinds of booze he brought over, in hopes it would get the Austrian to warm up to him more, which somehow worked out very well. The man was easier to talk to when both of them got to know each other over time. Because of this, James had learned Niki truly did live alone, having been cut off from his wealthy family after refusing to take over some business his dad owned, instead pursuing his interest in cars and motorsports. Niki also didn’t talk to anybody, because nobody talked to him, or whatever it was. James couldn’t remember, because that night he drank himself piss drunk.

All of it led up to one cold afternoon in some December of 1974, When James walked over with a couple boxes of Christmas decorations balancing precariously on top of one another as he walked up the steps to the Austrians house. The Brit carefully let one hand go off the stack of boxes, reaching to knock on the door. Niki answered not even ten seconds later, a faint ‘I’m coming James’ coming from somewhere inside. How did Niki know it was him? He didn’t have time to ponder however, as Niki opened the door.

“Deck the halls, mister Lauda!” James called as he immediately stepped inside, setting the boxes on the floor. Niki looked at the boxes, and then at James.

“What?”

“We’re decorating your house for the holidays Ratty! I feel like you could use something festive around here.” James looked around the sparsely decorated hall, before his eyes, as always, fell on Niki. Niki was devastatingly handsome, but a twinge of sadness lingered behind his eyes, even if they were disguised by his stoic attitude.

“I like my house the way it is.” Niki shook his head, but James, the man he is, persisted.

“It could count as us hanging out together? Please Niki, it might just cheer you up, you’re always so grumpy.” James was now taking a sparkly red garland, holding it up against the doorway. “How does this look, Niki?” James said as he turned around. Niki’s almost sad frown turned into a contemplative expression before briskly replying.

“It needs to move to the left, it will look nicer then.” James happily obliged, shifting said garland to the left, and watched a small smile grow on Niki’s face, which absolutely suited him. It was handsome. Getting confident, James took more things out of the box and passed them to Niki, who had now grabbed a rather flimsy step ladder to hang up some decorations. As time went on, Niki’s smile grew bigger and Jame’s heart grew warmer at the knowledge that Niki wasn’t spending time by himself so much, and just generally liking his company. However, that giddiness was short lived when the Austrian man stepped up onto the ladder once again to string up lights, the ladder groaning before collapsing under him, eliciting a shriek. James rushed to catch him before he could hit the floor, the two breathing heavily. James could feel Niki’s heart pounding, and the two stayed in this strange position of holding each other close longer than they should have, until James set him gently back on his feet and returned to decorating.

After that fiasco was over and the house mostly decorated, James' face lit up at a particularly empty corner of Niki’s living room, where some form of Formula 1 replay was broadcasted on a black and white TV screen by a shelf full of books.

“Stay right here Ratty, I’ll be back!” James then raced to his house, running to the attic before carefully hauling out a boxed Christmas tree wrapped in more tape than cardboard, lugging it all the way across the street to Niki’s house, coming in and pushing it to the living room. Unpacking the tree, the two men put it together before James left again to the hallway to grab more decorations. When he returned, the two men got started decorating the tree, with James placing some of his rather sentimental ornaments front and centre on the tree, gently intruding into Niki’s life. When time came for the star, James dropped himself to his knees, confusing the Austrian.

“Get on, you can put the star on.”

Niki simply nodded, seating himself on James’ shoulders as he took the star and placed it at the very top, with an ornament that James had made not long ago sitting right underneath. The Austrian hopped off the Brits shoulders, standing back to observe the tree, and James couldn’t help but get lost in the sight of the lights dancing in his eyes, that he subconsciously leaned closer to the other. Niki interrupted him after a few minutes.

“What are you staring at?”

“Oh… Sorry Niki. I was wondering… If you really wanted to, we could spend Christmas together too, so you’re not…” He kept losing himself in the shorter man’s dazzling eyes. “...Lonely.” His eyes flickered to the others lips, then back to the glimmering tree.

“I’m not lonely. I have you.” Niki was blunt, and straight to the point, and James loved that. It was romantic.

“I’m glad, Niki…” The Brit smiled, and the Austrian did as well, standing on his toes and pressing a soft kiss to James’ lips. Niki tasted like cigarettes, wine, and something so distinctly him, it made the blonde nearly swoon. He was about to pull him closer when the Brunette pulled back just to whisper against his lips.

“I’m not lonely James..” Niki sunk back against him and James hummed in contentment. They kiss tenderly for a while, walking up the stairs together, sometimes kissing against  the wall, before they get to the Austrians bedroom. It was like a glimpse into the real him, like taking off one's clothes and staring at whatever real beauty was laid bare as Niki pushed him back against the bed, James slightly pushing him away from his lips for just a moment.

“You’re not… I love you Niki, so much more than you know.” He reached back up to kiss him more thoroughly.

And so the two men do spend Christmas together, and every single holiday that comes afterward.

Chapter Text

Living in the usually very warm São Paulo for Ayrton meant that winter simply wasn’t a thing, neither was ice skating. Hell, he didn’t even get to see such things during the racing season. However, since dating Alain and moving to Europe, he does get to experience all those winter things he missed out on living so far down south. Today was one of those days as he and the Frenchman quietly conversed in an empty locker room at some arena, where free skates were normally held. Alain wanted them to go later in the evening, so Ayrton was less likely to barrel into a small child when he eventually sped up and raced around the rink like it was his own personal circuit. Ayrton had spent the last ten minutes staring at his sock feet as he contemplated what he was supposed to do. Alain had told him to take off his boots and told him to wait until he was done. That is until he saw the shorter man, wobbling over to him on skates, a pair of bright yellow skates with blue and green stripes in hand.

“I got these ones made just for you cheri, here.” Alain said as Ayrton hastily took them, sliding them on his feet and lacing them up like Alain showed him to, simply because ice skates were a bitch to lace up according to the man. The minute they got out onto the ice, there were very few people in the rink. The taller man nearly slipped as he stepped straight onto the ice, desperately clinging to the boards. Alain grabbed his hand, helping steady him as they went merrily around the rink. Eventually, after some time, the Brazilian got confident and promptly let go of the Frenchman's hand, skating lap after lap around the rink, mapping out imaginary circuits in his bright yellow skates. It melted the shorter man’s heart to see his boyfriend take pride in something new like this. It made him smile even as the man, who he forgot to teach how to stop with skates, barreled full force into them, causing them both to sprawl out across the rink, sliding away from each other down the ice. The men laughed, their cheer echoing off the walls of the empty rink. Ayrton got up, promptly slipping again, but getting a good control on himself and he skated over to Alain, who was still lying there, and dropped to his knees.

“Alain! Are you ok? That crash looked like it hurt a lot!”

All he got in response was a breathy laugh. “I’m fine, Ayrton. I should’ve taught you how to stop though, that is my one regret.”

The taller man laughed in response, before bending down to help the shorter one up, kissing his knuckles as he did so. They got back to skating around the rink, hand in hand as Ayrton felt the cold nip at his cheeks and the shorter man leaning against him. They would share kisses and teasing remarks, even after they step off the ice and back into the locker room. The taller man smiled sweetly as he watched the other take off his skates, setting them in a bag, before striding towards him and doing the same. Ayrton pulls Alain close as they exit the rink and hop into his car, driving back home as their date concluded.

Chapter Text

Of the millions of things Michael enjoyed doing with his friend, getting snowed in while on a trip together for a post championship party wasn’t one of them. Did he get to take a few extra days off? absolutely! Would he maybe freeze his ass off? Unfortunately, yes. However, he was here with his friend and rival Mika, which made everything a little less painful to bear, and frankly, a little less frightening to think about. Mika, being the smart man he is, had brought some video tapes for the trip to kill some time, and the German man hadn’t brought anything to kill time other than his ski's, which he now couldn’t use. He wandered around the cabin as the Finnish man worked away at the stove trying to make a soup to eat.

“It will be a while before they come get us, so we’ll have to make do with what we have.”

“I know that,” Michael said flatly. He and Mika were close absolutely, but he thought he might go stir crazy if he had to spend more than two days with his rival, or so he wants to believe. Despite pacing the halls of the cabin, eyeing the karaoke machine and TV in the living room, the champagne bottles in the mini fridge, the eggshells in the wastebin, watching as the sky gradually grew darker and the realization that he was truly snowed in settling in his chest, he felt afraid. However that was all snuffed out when he stopped to take in the overall homeliness of the cabin, even if temporary, as the distinct voice of Mika called out to him.

“Supper’s ready, dear.”

Even if it was in a joking term, it still pulled at the German’s heart as he lazily wandered into the kitchen, sitting down in one of the wooden chairs and observing the soup the Finn set down. The broth, chicken, veggies and herbs all came together to make a rather delicious smelling dish as Michael politely slurped the soup one spoonful at a time before getting down to the last little bit and drinking it straight from the bowl. Once he was done savouring whatever taste the soup left in his mouth, he rested his head on the table as he quietly observed the blonde man, who looked back at him. He realized maybe he should say something.

“Thank you, mein liebling,” Michael casually threw out there, knowing Mika probably would be none the wiser to what he was saying. The Finn paused, before going back to eating. Michael dug in his pockets for a bundle of sweets he took with him to the cabin, unwrapping and eating them as the thought struck him again how Jean Todt and all the others were partying in a cabin away from them, probably unaware that him and the Finnish man were in a whole other cabin while the snow piled up high. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but something like that unsettled him deeply. They all had each other, he just had Mika. He kept unwrapping and eating the sweets from his pocket, probably at a concerning pace until Mika stopped him, reaching over to touch his empty soup bowl.

“Michael, are you still hungry?” the Finn curiously asked, bringing the German back to reality.

“Yeah, I suppose I still am,” He said as he stuffed the wrappers back into his pocket.

“Why didn’t you just say so? You know eating all that candy is not good for you,” the blonde scolded gently, taking Michael's bowl and filling it with soup. He rapidly chugged down the soup when it was set in front of him, not really caring if the other man saw him do it anymore. When he was done, he thanked Mika again before washing his dish and pacing the house again before sitting back down on the couch and observing the falling snow outside, which was now reaching the windowsill. Mika seemed to notice his increasing worry, and walked to the karaoke machine to punch in a song, grabbing the microphone and singing some cheesy love song. At first, the Finn’s voice was grating and unsophisticated, but soon turned into a softer, more sophisticated thing. Mika had already popped open one of the bottles of champagne in the mini fridge and started chugging it down mid instrumental of the song.

“Cheers to your championship Michael! Don’t worry about the snow out there, we’re warm enough in here, no?” He raised the bottle as a toast, chugging it again before setting down the empty bottle on the table, now decently plastered and slurring his words as he sung the song. All of it made Michael laugh, seeing how hard the blonde seemed to try to make him feel more comfortable, and the brunette smiled at that as he stood up to join him, popping open a bottle of champagne and aiming it directly at the Finnish man.

“Thank you, thank you! I’ll try not to worry, it's just snow!”

“Agh! Michael!” Mika gasped as the cold spray hit him in the side, grabbing another bottle and spraying the champion with it. They hosed each other down, drinking the champagne as well and ditching the karaoke machine entirely until the evening passed by in a blur and both men were considerably wasted. They collapsed on the couch, drenched in champagne as the music slowly started to fade out. The German reached up and carded his fingers through the Finn’s hair, muttering a quiet ‘I love you’ as the other man looked up to him.

“Are you still worried about the snow Michael?”

“Not when you’re here.” They fell asleep on the couch like this, wrapped in the warm embrace of the nearby fireplace and each other.

Chapter Text

Lewis sipped the latte he made using whatever late machine Sebastian had given him for Christmas, basking in the serenity of the winter morning. As he sipped from his mug, he wandered down the hall and right to Sebastian's office, noting all the nature themed decorations and the little bee shaped things that hung from the ceiling of the office.

“Sebby,” He started as he walked in, settling into a beanbag chair. “You’ve been working all morning. Why don’t we go outside?” He eyed the document the German was furiously typing away at.

“In a minute, Lew. I gotta finish this one up, ‘kay?”

Lewis sighed, relaxing in his seat as he looked at the decorations, and everything else in the room that made him fall in love with the German. “You always say that, but the snowmen and snow forts outside won’t build themselves.”

Finally, the typing slowed, and he stood up from his desk, stretching. “Oh alright Lew, I’ll take a break with you.”

So Lewis stood too, finishing off his latte and hanging onto the mug until they passed the kitchen, where he put it in the dishwasher, and the two set foot outside after getting ready. The Brit quickly threw a snowball at the German, who retaliated by rapid firing snow back at him.

“Agh! Sebastian!” Lewis said as he ran around their massive yard, trying to dodge the blonde's incessant snowball throwing. Finally he managed to get back at the German, finding a giant lump of snow and dropping it straight on his head. The two goof around for a bit before Lewis said they should build a snowman together, as the two men ran back inside and ransacked the house for toques, scarves, carrots, and lumps of coal. They ran back outside and rolled around the biggest lumps of snow they can get, stacking them together to make a snowman, before Sebastian ran off with Roscoe into the woods behind their house to look for suitable sticks while Lewis sifted through the stack of fancy hats and scarves he brought from inside. When he finally made his pick, he gently set one of the toques on the snowman, and wrapped a scarf of his around the snowman as Seb came back to place the sticks on and add the face. Together, they fussed over their strange snow child, making it look just right, before they headed back inside to warm up, taking Roscoe with them.