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A Boy like Me

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If you’d have asked Valtteri, he’d have said the chances of someone like Lewis Hamilton wanting to be with someone like Valtteri were next to none.

And Valtteri thought that he’d never want to be with someone like Lewis either. It wasn’t anything against Lewis, it was more that Lewis reminded him way too much of his little brother and the idea of dealing with another Charles wasn’t exactly how Valtteri pictured his life.

But Lewis was... he was different.

He was cocky, sure, and he was a bit self-righteous in a kind of annoying way sometimes, but he didn’t intend it. And, frankly, Valtteri knew that his little brother had been the mastermind behind making Lewis into a meme when he kept thanking people, and he couldn’t even be angry at his brother because it was actually pretty funny.

But that’s what made Lewis Lewis.

He had a heart of gold and he wanted to fight the injustice in the world in a way that no one else would. He wanted to save the planet and save the people and teach them how to be more sustainable in a way that didn’t sound preachy but rather informative.

And he wanted to make people happy.

And, fuck, Valtteri really fucking wanted to see Lewis smile again because he honestly didn’t know if there was a more beautiful sight.

“How have things been?” Lewis asked as Valtteri welcomed him into the house.

“Well, Dan is crying in the kitchen and Charles is confused and Max is running around like a headless chicken, Dad is at work and Isä keeps staring at Max because he doesn’t know what else to do, so all in all, pretty well,” Valtteri nodded.

Lewis laughed as they walked up to Valtteri’s room.

“Why is Dan crying?”

“I have no idea, I think he’s just stressed.”

“Mood,” Lewis muttered.

“You didn’t need to come over if you’re stressed, honestly we-”

“If I have to revise at home one more time I’ll scream,” Lewis told him, cutting Valtteri off, “I want to hang out with you and I want to revise with you, honestly, I feel blessed that you let me into your house to do this.”

“Dan is here basically all the time, you being here doesn’t make a difference. If anything, Dad’s going to appreciate it. He wants to ask you something anyway.”

“What does your Dad want from me?”

Valtteri shrugged and pushed his door open.

“No idea, desk or floor, choice is yours.”

“I’ll take the floor. I need to spread out these papers anyway,” Lewis smiled.

And Valtteri’s heart skipped a beat.

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

Lewis smiled again.

Valtteri’s heart skipped another beat.

Wow, he really was going to die at the hands of Lewis Hamilton and his smile.

“What do you have to work on?”

“Comparing political idolisation: US vs UK,” Lewis grimaced, “Which is about as fun as it sounds.”

“So basically it’s not fun at all?”

“Yep, pretty much.” Lewis laughed.

Valtteri felt himself blush at knowing he’d been the one to pull that sound out of Lewis and he couldn’t take his eyes off him as Lewis dropped to the floor. He’d never seen someone as graceful as Lewis.

But to be fair, that might be because Valtteri spends 90% of his time with two individuals who continuously chase each other around the house and routinely try and knock each other over.

“How’s hockey practice been?” Lewis asked, pulling Valtteri’s attention back to him.

“Okay,” Valtteri shrugged.

He saw the way Lewis instantly looked up at his short answer, concern flooding his features and Valtteri had to look away.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Lewis questioned, standing up and coming to sit beside Valtteri on the edge of the bed.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me, talk to me, get it off your chest.”

Valtteri looked down as Lewis’ hand came to rest on his knee and he desperately tried to avoid Lewis’ eyes when he ducked to try and catch his eyes.

“Val, just let me listen to you.”

“It’s just, with all the revising, and dealing with them two, and dealing with hockey, and trying to figure out whether I want to go to Bristol or Bournemouth, everything is about decisions lately and choosing what to do and I don’t know anymore,” Valtteri told him staring into the distance, “And my Dad is on about getting a new job and won’t tell us where, Charles is in therapy or he might try to kill himself, Max keeps having panic attacks because he’s terrified of everything changing, and I don’t fucking know what to do anymore. It’s too much Lewis.”

“Val...”

“And I’m fucking terrified that I’m going to wake up or someone’s going to ring me and they’re going to tell me Charles has done something. I can’t have him do that, Lewis, and I don’t fucking know how to stop it.”

Valtteri’s voice was a mixture between emotionless and close to breaking down. He hadn’t told anyone about this. Hadn’t told them that he spent half of his nights awake sitting with his door open so that he could hear if Charles did anything or if Max started crying. Hadn’t told anyone that he was terrified of starting university because he didn’t want those two to lose their routine.

And then, in the quiet of the moment as Lewis processed what Valtteri had said, they heard Charles laugh.

And Valtteri fucking lost it.

Tears raced down his cheeks as all the stress and fear unloaded at sound of his baby brother's happy laughter. The laughter that said he was okay and his head wasn't scaring him today.

“Can I hug you?” Lewis asked.

Valtteri nodded and buried his face in Lewis’ shirt, his arms snaking around Lewis’ waist and hugging him tight as he sobbed.

“It’s alright, just cry, Val, let it out,” Lewis murmured, rubbing Valtteri’s back and over his hair, “I’ve got you, you cry it out, it’ll help a bit.”

“I’m scared, Lew.”

“It’s going to be alright. Charles is doing so good, Max is managing things, your Dad will tell you when the time is right. And you’ll make the decision that’s right for you when you need to.”

“The applications-"

“Our choices have to be made by mid-May. It’s the middle of April, Val. Plenty of time,” Lewis comforted.

“But what if we make the wrong decision? Or if something happens to the twins?”

“You won't do, because you're smart, you know what you're doing. If you do end up making the wrong decision, you transfer course or you drop out for the year and start again somewhere else. And the twins have your dads, and Dan wants to go to London so he’ll be there for them. They have friends at school, they’ll be okay, Valtteri, it’s not your job to keep them safe all the time. They’re doing okay.”

“They’re my brothers,” Valtteri said through his tears.

“And they’re your Dads kids too. They’re going to keep the twins safe, Val, they’re not going to be left to fend for themselves. And just because you’re going to uni, and you could be going to places that might be three hours from home, it doesn’t mean you can’t come back. It doesn’t mean you can’t facetime them. Max and Charles don’t know how to live without you, and your brothers aren’t going to let you go without a fight, are they? They’ll still be ringing you and texting you. And when you have games, they’ll be on the front row screaming and trying to fight the opposing team on your behalf. They’re chaos in human form, Valtteri. They're going nowhere.”

Valtteri laughed and wiped away the tears with the back of his hand. He could just imagine the twins bringing their skates with them and finding a way to scale the barrier to get onto the ice in order for them to start fights with people.

“There you go,” Lewis mumbled, smiling at the way Valtteri smiled shakily.

“Your smile could stop wars,” Lewis whispered, his eyes flicking between Valtteri’s lips and his eyes.

“Don’t think you can write about me for your exams,” Valtteri awkwardly mumbled, “I’m not interesting enough for that.”

“You’re one of the most interesting people I know, and one day you’re going to be who the kids write about when they get quizzed on the mechanics of engineering.” Lewis grinned.

“You’ve got no idea what that degree will give me, do you?”

“Absolutely none,” Lewis told him, laughing lightly and the blush decorating his cheekbones.

There was a beat of silence as they stared into the others eyes. Nothing interrupted them more than the sound of their own breathing and the clock ticking dangerously in the background.

“Lew,” Valtteri murmured, his voice barely audible.

Lewis shakily lifted his hand and pressed it to Valtteri’s cheek, holding his jaw in place as he leaned in. Valtteri held his breath and followed Lewis’ lead, their lips less than a centimetre apart when Lewis whispered,

“Trust me.”

And Valtteri did.

He closed his eyes and let his world plunge into darkness. All he was aware of was Lewis’ breath hitting his lips and the feeling of Lewis’ fingers warming his jaw.

“Dad wants you!” Charles’ voice came through the door and Valtteri flew back, his eyes wide as he stared nervously at Lewis.

“Erm, we should, we should go. I think Dad wants you,” Valtteri stumbled, pushing himself up and walking with as much confidence as he could considering it was as though he was walking on jelly and his heart was beating as fast as a hummingbird. Waves crashed in his ears and a red blush rivalling Charles’ Ferrari shirt he’d adored as a little boy adorning his cheeks.

What the fuck had he done? He couldn’t fucking believe he’d been stupid enough to nearly kiss Lewis.

Lewis Hamilton

The boy who Cambridge were chasing after.

The boy who was going to change the world.

The boy who wouldn’t go after a boring person like Valtteri.

The boy who wouldn’t want to kiss a boy like Valtteri.

How could he be that stupid?