Not one of the prompts you reblogged but one I’ve had in my notes for months that I think you could do something amazing and awful with!
“We’re never going to have a happy ending, remember that.” - whatever pairing sparks joy angst.
i love you. how about,, uh, all of them?
1994
"Ayrton, I don't know what you want from me," he says, head in his hand, the one that isn't holding the receiver. "I'm not coming back, I'm not your punching back, there is nothing -"
Ayrton interrupts him. He's never learned not to take what he wants. He's never learned not to stomp over everything he feels may be in the way.
'Do you think you can be happy, not racing me? I don't think you can.' He laughs, and Alain despises that laugh. It's derisive and it grates on his ears through the phone. He should hang up. 'I can't be happy racing without you. You can't be happy without me either, Alain, I am right about this.'
He says it like a declaration; there is no question to be found anywhere. Ayrton doesn't ask. He states, and he takes, and Alain shouldn't pick up the phone anymore.
"There will never be a happy ending for us, Ayrton." He presses the palm of his hand into his eye until he sees stars. "We made sure of it."
Ayrton says nothing. Alain tries to breathe.
Neither of them hang up for a long, long time after.
2001
"I won't stay," Mika says.
Michael scoffs. "I don't want you to stay."
There is nothing to do after such a blatant, shitty, petulant lie except to laugh. So Mika laughs and doesn't let himself hear the anger underneath it.
"You're full of shit, Michael," he says.
"And you're a coward who's leaving, Mika," Michael replies, his smile as sharp as a knife. "Can't take serious competition?"
Mika could say so many things then. He could say I hate you and Fuck you, you bastard and You were never competition to me and I don't care about this anymore and You were never important to me.
He's too tired to lie. His body hurts, and his head is pounding, and his heart... his heart is doing something too. Something he doesn't want to think about too much.
"This isn't a movie, Michael," he says in the end. "There is no 'happily ever after' in racing." He chuckles, rubs his fist over his sternum. "We either lose or die in the end." Sometimes both, he doesn't say. There's no need. He sees in Michael's face that he knows.
"Well," he says with that big, boyish smile Mika has loved since he first saw it a decade ago, and which he still loves as much as he loves being in the car on track, "I am going to live forever."
Mika shakes his head. "You will." He smiles; not a lie. "Of course you will."
Michael grins, and pushes at Mika's knee with his own, and they stay silent. There's no need to speak anymore.
There was rarely need for them to speak anyway. Some things, they just understood.
2016
Nico pushes Lewis away. "Just - fucking move," he says, because he feels like he could either kiss Lewis or break his fucking nose if he stays too close. "I decided, and it's over, Lewis, it's done." He swallows. "I'm done."
Lewis is furious. He's not even trying to hide it and that pissess Nico off majorly. He's been hiding his fucking heartbreak for ages. He's been smiling for the cameras and holding his hands in his pockets or in his lap so nobody wohld see them shake, and he's been meditating on what he would say so he doesn't come.off too broken and too tired and too defeated - and he won, he fucking won - and Lewis can't even do him the courtesy of pretending for a little bit? He can't even allow Nico the common cordiality after - after everything; no, of course not. He has to come in here with all his usually tightly hidden emotions on display and put them all on Nico, throw them all into Nico's face, like a reprimand, like a punishment. You won, now deal with this.
Fuck you, Lewis, he thinks, and says "Did you think I was going to stay?" He scoffs. "Did you think I'll come back to have you try and take away this from me through another year like this one has been?"
He watches Lewis' eyes widen in guilt. I know you, Nico thinks viciously. I know you better than anyone. Fuck you. Fuck you for fucking all of this up for me and for both of us.
"There will be no happy ending, victorious narrative where you 'regain your crown' or whatever the fuck next year." He smiles, and Lewis' nosteils flare. "You lose."
Lewis says nothing for a moment. When he laughs, it's the most awful sound Nico has ever heard in his life; metal scraping into a wall and head hitting concrete and suffocation of a too-tight cockpit when you can't get out because your belt is stuck, all together screaming in cacophony.
"You lose too," he says finally. "You lose. Coward."
Nico tries to smile but everything is too distorted and he doesn't know if he manages. "Yes, but I lose by default, and not to you. And you won't win against me."
Lewis breathes in sharply. Nico watches him tap his fingers on his thigh. One, two, three, he counts, like he knows Lewis does in his head, a long-ago learned technique that they both use.
"Fuck you, Nico," Lewis grits through his teeth, and when he moves, Nico is there to meet him halfway and shut him up with a kiss.
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