Chapter Text
Niki woke at a knock on the door and to the weight of James Hunt’s arm draped over him. In a moment of shock he looked down but they were both fully dressed. He just had no memory to explain their proximity. Just pizza and movies and it looked like that was as far as he went. He could deal with that. It was weird but James was probably just too far gone to know what he was really doing. Typical.
James was still sleeping soundly and the knocking was irritating so he decided to deal with it himself. He pushed James’ arm away, none too gently, and rolled out of bed, realising after a moment, the knocking was coming from the adjoining room. As he crossed the floor Niki looked down at his hands. His fingertips were strangely sensitive, his short nails torn in places. Did he do that in the fight?
Shaking off that line of enquiry he pulled open the door to the surprised blinking of Alastair Caldwell.
“Oh. Niki. Um… I thought… did you swap rooms?”
“No. James is still in bed.”
The New Zealander looked like he had no idea what to say, like he was trying various beginnings and dismissing them all. Finally he settled on the achingly safe, “Tell him he’s late for the track.” Niki watched the man retreat, head cocked to one side, not quite walking in a straight line as if too distracted to correct his path.
Closing the door with a shrug and headed back to his bed and his rival within it. He picked up his pillow and smacked James over the head with it, answering the surprised snorting with, “Get up. Your manager thinks we’re fucking.”
~
James dressed quickly enough but he wasn’t really awake. He stumbled away from his closet, rubbing his eyes. He’d not had a great night’s sleep, as it had turned out, waking often, everytime Niki shifted. He kept glancing at his friend when he was in sight without making it obvious. It was strange how composed the Austrian was in the daylight. He was acting like his old self, like yesterday hadn’t happened at all while James was still shuddering at the memory. It made him feel strangely alone.
Niki wandered into his room, looking freshly pressed and composed. He’d found his hat and his jacket and was carrying a mug. He shoved it onto James’ hands. “You look like shit.” Coffee. Acrid and black. Niki padded away again, back into his own room. James didn’t mind that Niki treated his space as an extension of his own. It was a good sign, wasn’t it? That he was so relaxed? Or was it a sign things were worse than he thought?
James followed Niki, sipping his coffee and screwing up his face at the burn. Do you remember “You sleep okay last night?” he asked casually.
“Fine, yes,” Niki answered quickly. “I need to get to work. You need to get to work. Finish your coffee.”
Niki was busily folding his clothes, tidying the disheveled room. Creating order where he could.
James nodded and wandered back to his own room. He supposed it wouldn’t be a great idea to keep Alistair waiting even longer. He threw back the coffee and headed down to the track alone.
~
James threw himself into his work. The first few laps he did at race speed, needed to work things out of his system. The car danced and screamed until it filled his mind with the sounds of pistons and afterburn and the shake of its own frame as it rattled around the track. He fussed over every aspect of his ride with needle-like attention, drawing looks from his mechanics and his manager (who was looking at him very strangely indeed), unsure if they should be worried or relieved he was taking everything so seriously despite looking like he hadn’t slept in a week.
It wasn’t the first time James had had to explain himself after a night out but it was the first time he’d had to swear he hadn’t slept with a fellow driver. In the end he wasn’t sure he’d convinced Alastair of anything aside from the fact his mind was on the job for all the wrong reasons but he wasn’t going to talk about what happened with anyone else. He could hardly imagine a worse betrayal of trust.
He inflicted his team with his hyper-attentive presence for the better part of the day, eating his quick lunch in his own own pit and speaking only sparsely with the drivers working nearby (which was probably as well for them). In the end it was Alastair who sent him away, telling him the mechanics needed the car and that James needed “a cold shower and a fucking cup of tea.” He didn’t argue.
~
He ended up going for a warm shower and a cup of coffee. He dressed in his best evening casual and combed out his hair. Feeling a little closer to human he headed down to the hotel bistro with a craving for a large steak and he wasn’t disappointed. He liked Canadian food. He found himself glancing around for Niki as he ate but he didn’t really expect to see him. He’d be working on his car and good thing too. A little normality would be good for him.
A little while later James decided it would be good for him too, taking a girl he’d met at the hotel bar up to his room and locking the door that connected to Niki’s.
~
Five hours later he saw the girl, an American on holiday, back to her room downstairs (mostly in case he wished to find her later. She’d been fun.) Returning to his room via the fire escape he finally opened up the conjoining door to find Niki sitting on his bed, reading a magazine. Not one of the fun variety, James noticed. Niki looked up at James, his lip curling a little. “Are you sure you shouldn’t be sleeping? You’ve been working very hard.” His voice was thick with sarcasm.
James hid the fact he was horrified Niki had been listening, or at least aware of what he was doing, with his usual swagger. “Nah. That was me just warming up. Not even close to my lap record.”
“If you say the words pole position I will push you out the window,” Niki responded tightly.
“You’re very sassy tonight. Good day at work?” James asked, hands in his pockets, a vision of casual disconcern.
“It was productive,” Niki shrugged, guarding his professional secrets. His voice, his manner, was about as relaxed as it ever got, sober.
“Not what I wanted to hear,” James joked.
“You were productive too,” Niki pointed out, eyes bright.
“Well I did find a nice steak,” the Brit confessed wistfully. Heartened by the openness of Niki’s face he took it as a tacit invite and settled on the end of the bed.
“Midnight snack?” James suggested.
“I’m not hungry.”
“We could play poker.” James fished in his pocket for a deck of cards.
“We could sleep,” Niki countered.
“Is that an invitation?”
“Do you need one?” Niki’s tone was matter-of-fact.
James cocked his head thoughtfully, looked down at Niki’s hands, pale against his dark blue pajamas aside from the red specks of recent damage. He felt his moment had come, to raise certain things with Niki.
“How did you sleep last night?” James asked, his tone deceptively light.
“I already answered you,” Niki said dismissively.
“You did,” James conceded. Then added. “I never thanked you for that.” He gestured towards Niki’s hands, meaning the fight.
“They were annoying me,” the Austrian shrugged.
“How are your hands?”
“They’re fine,” Niki didn’t bother looking up from his magazine.
“You did a number on your fingernails,” James said casually.
Niki looked up then. “I did a what?”
“A number. You really messed them up.”
Niki looked at James for a moment, eyes narrowing. “That thing you’re not saying. You should say it.”
James sighed. The Austrian was too clever by half. He had no idea how Niki was going to react but he had to tell him and he knew how.
He spoke slowly, his accent abysmal, his tone level, careful. Reluctant. “Hol mich hier raus. Lass uns das Feuer. Es brennt.”
Niki glared at him then, his eyes widening.
“I don’t know what it means but I think I know what it was about,” James clarified.
“Where did you hear those words?” Niki said, his full attention on James now.
James swallowed. “Last night. In your bathroom. Niki… ”
Niki’s answer was fast, cutting off James at the pass seamlessly.
“James. It’s not for you to worry about. It is for me. You have your part. You play your part well. I… need you to play your part.” James opened his mouth to speak but Niki reached out to place his hand on his friend’s in a rare show of camaraderie.
“I was hoping it wouldn’t happen again,” he said softly. “Here. I know you. You will try and fix this. You will say ‘it’s my problem. I made him race.’ It’s okay. This is a part of it. I don’t mind it. Those things can only scare you for a moment and they are gone, you wake up and there is no fire. There is no fire, James.” His voice softened. “Everyday I say that to myself. There is no fire. Things tick on. We tick on.”
Niki withdrew his hand and tilted his head. “If you would like we can play cards. We will play for breakfast. If I win we will eat what I choose. If you win you choose.”
It was strange to hear his desperate assurances to Niki turned back on him with such calmness. ‘Nein Feuer.’ But Niki’s words had also been reassuring not because they marked an end to Niki’s fear or the scars of his crash but because they marked out his strength and perspective, far more powerful weapons than James’ fumblings, he was sure, but he had his part and by God he was going to play it.
James started shuffling the cards he’d brought with him. Niki put his magazine to one side and awaited his hand.
By 2 am they fallen into a dreamless sleep on the same bed and so remained till morning.