1 + 1
Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo/Jean-Eric Vergne
Summary: Dan knocks up Jev. For motorskink. Mpreg. (One and One makes Three.)
Rating: Red flag.
Despite the fact that he's been feeling pretty crap for weeks, he's expecting to pass his end-of-season medical wiTh flying colours, it's hardly like he's actually ill, it's probably just the jet lag catching up with him, leaving him tired, aching and sometimes feeling rather sick. Jean-Eric certainly isn't expecting to be told that his urine results suggest that he's pregnant, that much can be determined from his sudden fainting episode. He wakes up in the local hospital, confused, but he's entirely aware of what this means, when he sees the baby for the first time, or what he's told is the baby, considering the fact that it really just looks like a blob until the technician finds the right angle and then he gasps, fighting the second fainting episode he can feel coming on to stare at the screen. "Shit."
Marko is furious. Especially when Jean-Eric is forced to admit who the father is. He hadn't intended on having sex with Dan when they'd started their celebrations of a double points score at Spa, but they had done, and now he's the one left regretting a drunken fumble in a club toilet, no matter how much he wants it again. He's never had sex like it, even if his memories are fuzzy behind the amount he'd had to drink, but god, he sobs, sat in his car, still outside the factory in Milton Keynes, he wishes it had never happened. They'd woken up pressed together, mostly naked save for Dan's shirt and one of Jean-Eric's socks, and Dan had murmured something sleepily into the back of Jean-Eric's neck, and Jean-Eric wishes that he could be back there, only if it meant that he was still a driver, he wasn't pregnant, and Dan still spoke to him. But neither of those things are true - his contract, freshly signed that morning, just before this had spiralled out of control, has been torn up, sat in pieces on the passenger seat because Marko did always like to rub failures in; the scan sits on top of the torn sheets of paper, his name printed at the top; and Dan still hasn't texted him, hasn't replied to the dozen or so texts Jean-Eric has sent since the end of the season, that last party together. Dan's in Australia anyway, Jean-Eric remembers, and reaches for another tissue, blows his nose messily into it and decides that he's sick of sobbing in Red Bull's car park, its hardly like Jean-Eric has anyone he can talk to. And with that, he decides that the best course of action is to hit Tesco for some chocolate and cry some more on his sofa.
The news breaks overnight. Marko's doing, no doubt, judging by the numerous times the man's quoted in the articles. Jean-Eric reads most of the articles knelt on the bathroom floor, in between throwing up all the chocolate he ate yesterday. It's hardly like his diet matters anymore, he reasoned, between sniffles. Dan doesn't call, text, email, reply to any of his messages, anything, even if he must know the news - it's hardly like he's somewhere unreachable, Australia's pretty easy to contact.
Maybe there's a reason why Dan didn't contact him after the news broke, Jean-Eric admits, staring at the text he's just received. It's six o'clock in the evening, he's upstairs chucking his guts up again (he's three months pregnant, he thought this faded after then but apparently not) and even his rolling stomach can't distract him from four words on a screen. We need to talk. Shit.
Dan arrives when the sickness has finally stopped, and Jean-Eric is curled up on the sofa with his duvet and a film that he can't concentrate on. "Hi." He says, having let himself in. He still has keys, dangling from his fingers. Jean-Eric mutes the TV, looks up and sighs.
"Sorry."
"You weren't the one who forgot to use a condom."
"Equal blame, I think." Jean-Eric yawns, tugs his duvet over so Dan has some room to sit down.
"Marko's pissed."
"Yeah, I know. You're going to have a new teammate next year."
"What?"
"That was my contract." Jean-Eric nods at the torn pieces of paper piled on the coffee table. "And I can't drive pregnant anyway."
"You're keeping it?" Jean-Eric shrugs.
"Everyone knows now anyway."
"It's your choice." Dan says, absently tugs Jean-Eric's feet into his lap, settles his hand over one of his feet, thumb absently rubbing over his ankle.
"Technically, I don't have one." Jean-Eric adds, tosses a leaflet from the coffee table to Dan. "I'm more than three months pregnant. We're stuck with this. And I'm sorry I had to tell Marko you were the father."
"I'm sorry too."
"Does everyone know you're the father, or?"
"Marko and Franz. And Dietrich, presumably." Dan says, frowns. "How are you, anyway, you're the one who's had this just dumped on you."
"Sick." Jean-Eric laughs, rubs his sore stomach. The muscles ache with how violently he'd thrown up. He hopes it goes away soon.
"Oh."
"Normal, apparently. I wish it wasn't."
"It'll go soon, though, right?"
"I hope so." Jean-Eric yawns. God, his entire body aches, especially his head.
"Come on. We can think better in the morning." Jean-Eric stretches, gathering up his duvet, yawns again, offers a hand to Dan. "Huh?"
"Spare room's sort of unavailable. The sofa's uncomfy too."
"Suppose we've already got a child on the way." Dan winks, follows Jean-Eric upstairs and flops down in just his boxers next to him. Jean-Eric turns off the lights, lays out on his back and sighs, smoothes a hand over his still flat stomach.
Neither of them can sleep. They toss and turn for most of the night, careful to keep distance between them, until Jean-Eric rolls out of bed to throw up. Dan follows him into the bathroom, smoothes his hair back from his face, strokes his back, gets a glass of water for him, wipes his face and lets Jean-Eric cry into his shoulder. They talk there and then, wrapped in towels to keep warm on the cold tile, Jean-Eric tucked into Daniel's side. They talk for hours about their relationship, how they've been skirting around it since they met, how on earth they managed to actually end up fucking after the Belgian Grand Prix. And then they finally sleep, pressed together like they've wanted to for a long time.
But life goes on outside the bubble of Jean-Eric's bedroom. And while they've been sorting out what they want from each other, people have been talking, gossiping. The F1 magazines Dan finds in the supermarket when he does a groceries run are covered with the story. He buys them anyway, careful to hide them to read them before Jean-Eric can.
The nicest articles merely give him an outside chance of returning. The worst, well. He takes delight in burning the worst over his barbecue, having returned to his house to collect his mail.
Jean-Eric's awake when he returns, reading through a replacement contract. He grins with delight at Dan, waves it a little. "Dietrich went mental at Marko."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah! Something about him knowing what it was like to be a man and pregnant or something. Either way-"
"Can't complain." Dan grins. "Oh, it is good to know you'll be back racing against me. I'll beat you, of course."
"Dream on." Jean-Eric laughs, tugs Dan down to sit next to him.
"I will." Dan laughs too, peers at the contract. "We still haven't talked about the elephant in the room though."
"Elephant?"
"Figure of speech. I meant the baby." Jean-Eric sighs in response to Dan's words, flops back on the sofa.
"Are you ready to a father? I'm not."
"By the time the baby arrives, I think we will be."
Christmas is spent explaining the whole situation to Jean-Eric's family. Dan spends most of the day looking steadily more confused and apologetic at the fierce glares he's getting, Jean-Eric spends most of it either inhaling food or explaining themselves. Dan's family is still unaware, but even with selling both of their houses to move into a new one, they really daren't spare the cash to go visit, not when Dan spent an evening scrolling through Mothercare and gasping at the prices. Especially not when Jean-Eric's contract means he's not actually being paid that much. But he'll take it, because there's nothing else available.
This means they tell Dan's family over Skype, with Jean-Eric leaving the conversation to go throw up before they've even told them the full story. They sit together on Jean-Eric's childhood bed and explain themselves, or at least attempt to. It doesn't go well. The fact that it's not in person doesn't help, and it sort of ruins Christmas, to find themselves sat staring at the wall, trying not to let the rejection affect them because this is Christmas, they're not supposed to be miserable.
It doesn't stop them from squishing together and trying not to cry though. Because even when you're an adult, rejection hurts, but it hurts just a little less when there's someone who loves you to cuddle, to share the hurt.
New Year's involves their first kiss since this whole thing started. They're stood in their new kitchen, listening to the countdown on the BBC, and Dan kisses Jean-Eric on the first chime of Big Ben, curving hands around his face, lips gentle against Jean-Eric's. Jean-Eric lets his eyes fall closed, responds just as gently, one hand falling onto Dan's shoulder, keeping him close. "We can do this." Dan whispers, once they've broken apart, hugging him close. Jean-Eric wraps his arms around Dan's back, breathes in the scent of his hair.
"Yeah."
And that's that. They've got no other choice - they're having a baby, they're going to have to make the most of it. Jean-Eric ignores the hate, the sometimes near-constant stream of abuse he gets from some people on Twitter, the insults that come from the knowledge that he's gay, that he bottoms, that he, to quote someone, 'takes it up the arse'. That had been the only tweet Dan had laughed at, said that Jean-Eric quite liked taking it up the arse as far as he could recall and laughed till he cried as Jean-Eric had flung every cushion on the sofa at him.
It's the beginning of February when Jean-Eric's stomach goes from perfectly flat to slightly rounded. Dan's the first to notice it, when they're sleepily pressed together in the shower, their intimacy having developed now they're living together, sharing personal space, a bathroom, a bed. They've never gone further than kissing though, no matter how naked they might be at the time, for reasons they can't work out. Maybe it's because they still really need to talk about this, but for now, they can cope without talking, just doing what they want without questioning it. He curves his palm over it, nudges his nose against Jean-Eric's ear, kisses the back of his neck. "You've got a bump." Jean-Eric steps backwards slightly into Dan's embrace, looks down at his body.
"Huh." He says, brushes his fingers around Dan's. "I do."
"That's our baby in there." Dan sounds astounded at this fact.
"Uh huh." Jean-Eric marvels too. "I still can't believe it's testing in three days time and I will not be driving."
"You get to watch me though."
"Yes, but with Marko giving me evils."
"Pah, he's just jealous." Dan snickers, bites at Jean-Eric's shoulder. "That I get all of this and he doesn't."
"Never mention him in this situation again." Jean-Eric replies, twists around in Dan's arms and kisses him properly, rubs up against him like they had done fully clothing that fateful night in Belgium. Only this time its skin-on-skin, and its wonderful, and he may have only experienced this once before, but he's missed it, because he's never felt anything what he feels with Dan ever, and he doesn't ever want to have to give this up.
The first time they fire up Dan's car in Jerez, Jean-Eric feels the baby move for the first time. He thinks its gas, at first, but then he realises that its not, that these butterflies are his baby moving, and he smiles, looking down at his bump. It's the picture of him that makes all the headlines, him still miraculously a reserve driver, smiling down at his bump, barely noticeable under the number of layers he has on in the cold garage but obvious when you consider the hands he has pressed to it. Dan asks later, when he's sneaked into Jean-Eric's room, why he was smiling. And Jean-Eric tells him, grinning into their kiss before he's nudged onto his back, Dan tracing patterns over his stomach, murmuring quietly to the skin there like the baby's already listening. That's how he falls asleep, listening to Dan tell their baby about his day driving the car.
Testing's definitely more boring when he's sat watching it from in the garage. Dan and Sebastien do a good enough job, and he still sees all the data, can still suggest improvements, can still let his brain work like it used to, like he misses it working when he's not driving his car. His car. Sebastien's car, now. Well, again, technically. He wonders how it must feel, for Sebastien, to have the car back for half a season. He's getting the car back in Spa, a year after the baby was conceived, if Dietrich and Franz can be trusted. He hopes they can be. He misses it.
They decide to go to Australia two weeks early. They settle it with the team, and head off. Dan reads "What To Expect When You're Expecting" on the planes, Jean-Eric sleeps for most of them. His bump's grown considerably in a month and a half, obvious now even under clothing. It's obvious when Dan's mother opens the door to find them, Dan only just keeping a mostly-asleep Jean-Eric upright. His Mum lets them in, can't help the smile at her son nudging his boyfriend up to his old room.
Dan may have spent most of the flight awake, but he's still awake when Jean-Eric wakes and wanders down to try to find him, disorientated in the unfamiliar house. Dan smiles tiredly at him from the sofa, beckons him over, arranges them so Jean-Eric can wake up some more while they're cuddled together. "You could have told me in person."
"We thought telling you as soon as possible was the better idea. And we're saving all the money possible, right now." Dan explains, yawns. Jean-Eric looks up at him, blinks a couple of times, smiles as Daniel's fingers entwine with his over his bump.
"I'll forgive you." She smiles at them, gets up as the front door opens and shuts. "We've got visitors!" She calls, welcoming her husband to the room. Dan grins at his Dad from the sofa, Jean-Eric offers a wave.
"Well, I hope my boy's gonna do the right thing, seen as he's got you in this mess." Dan's Dad says, offers a hand for Jean-Eric to shake.
"He is." Jean-Eric replies, smiles because this is the opposite of what he'd spent hours awake worrying about, worried that this would go the same way as the Skype call all those months ago. He knew then that it had been right to wait until they could make this trip out, even more so when the baby wriggles around again, like he or she has been doing more often as he or she grows.
"Hey! She didn't-" Dan gasps, eyes delighted when Jean-Eric turns his head to look at him.
"She kicked you." He grins back at him, laughs when Dan moves away from him slightly so he can lay both hands over his bump, waiting for the baby to move again. Dan's parents disappear quietly, leave them too their moment.
"Wow." Dan whispers, settling his hands on Jean-Eric's skin when Jean-Eric tugs his t-shirt up, nudging Dan's hands to where he can feel the baby is. "Like, it's real now, there's actually a baby in there."
"I hope so. And it's not like, an alien or something." Jean-Eric laughs, the movement creating a flurry of motion from the baby.
"Would sort of spoil the party." Dan murmurs to the skin below Jean-Eric's belly button, kissing his bump.
Unfortunately, their happiness is ruined when they get caught by the media. Jean-Eric has become popular media fodder, the F1 star disgraced by a pregnancy, and even more so when he's accompanying Dan, in Dan's home town, and they're photographed kissing while watching the waves at the beach. It had been a spur of the moment thing, Dan brushing a kiss over Jean-Eric's jaw as they'd sat on a bench, discussing something or other. That's irrelevant now, when there's headline after headline of their relationship, of one photo of a kiss, of more insults, and the dozens of voicemails and messages stacking up on their phones.
Jean-Eric spends the entire day in bed, watching his phone bleep with each new message until it turns itself off. Dan spends the entire day pacing the kitchen, arguing down a phone line until he's lost his voice and he's agreed on a statement that the team will put out.
The only reason Franz lets Jean-Eric stay with the team is because the relationship is already settled. They're having a baby together, and they'd already got through a year of being teammates in F1, years of being teammates in the junior formula, Franz knows that they can work together, fight against each other. The only thing that the competition has done is drive them closer together. And so what happens on the track, stays on the track.
And so despite the catcalls that follow them through the paddock on Thursday, Jean-Eric holds his head high and deliberately finds an outfit that shows off his bump. He shouts and yells on Sunday, feeling the baby squirm around, reacting to his voice, the speeding up of his heart rate at the crucial moments, and the little movements soothe him a little when Dan has to retire. They certainly cheer up Dan, at any rate, when they finally finish the debrief and then sit in Dan's room for a little while, just feeling him or her move around a little before she evidently goes to sleep, tired out by the race too.
It seems that with every passing day, Dan gets a little more excited about the baby. He's allowed to publicly be excited now, to rub the bump for good luck before each session, to get a good luck kiss before the race.
And each passing evening becomes Dan's time to explore Jean-Eric's changing body, bond with their unborn baby. Dan spends hours trailing his fingers over Jean-Eric's bump, kissing every single of the still faint stretch marks as they spread along the underneath of the bump. They spend hours with hands pressed to skin so they can feel every movement their baby makes. Dan buys a few story books, reads them to the bump, even properly starts learning French, soon proficient enough to understand French stories too. Every evening Jean-Eric learns something new about what their baby can do now, and every evening, they learn something new about each other. Sometimes, Jean-Eric falls asleep quickly, lulled by soft words. Other times, Dan's touch sparks something underneath his skin, and they learn each other's bodies, learn how to take pleasure from each other's bodies.
And with each passing day, Dan becomes more determined to make their house a home. He's nesting, though he denies it every time Jean-Eric suggests it. Every day when they're not at a race, every hour when they're not training, working in the factory, Dan spends decorating. He tears paper from the walls, repapers, repaints, sorts out their combined furniture, drags Jean-Eric out to shop after shop to decorate their nursery, buys him orange after orange to satisfy his cravings and placate him when he gets annoyed at the amount of his t-shirts that have paint smudges up the front where his bump has accidentally brushed a still-damp door or wall. It's worth it though, Jean-Eric admits, when its their home they return to, when he can sit in the middle of the nursery floor and stare around and think of the little human being that's going to be the perfect mixture of him and Dan. The entire nursery is themed around Alice in Wonderland, after the baby seemed to have taken to the tale with delight. He or she had squirmed around like crazy when Dan read it to her, mouth pressed to Jean-Eric's skin, the vibrations from his voice echoing through to their baby. It had made Dan suggest the name Alice, or Louis. Even if it had seemed like they were naming their baby after Hamilton, Jean-Eric had agreed, suddenly overwhelmed by the love he feels for the family he's making for himself.
They can see the baby move underneath the taut skin of Jean-Eric's bump by Spain. His belly-button's popped out too, and Dan had laughed till he couldn't stand up anymore at the shocked yell Jean-Eric had given when it happened. It had been in the paddock too, Jean-Eric yanking his t-shirt up in shock at the odd sensation, to examine his new outie as Dan had giggled himself into hiccoughs. As if in sympathy, the baby had broken out in them too, and that had been weird to watch, the bump jumping every time the baby had hiccoughed.
In Monaco, Jean-Eric's tired of being pregnant. He really is. He's loved every minute of it (except the ones where his career had been at stake, but then there's more to life than racing, and he really is glad that he's found something other than Formula One to concentrate on.), every kick (except the ones that hurt, because he'd thought it had been painful when someone punched your kidney but nobody had mentioned how much it hurt when a not-even-born yet baby had kicked it from inside), every one of the little dances his baby had seemed to do (except the ones that had kept him awake), every kiss Dan has given the bump, every fairytale read out loud, every time he's been told how much Dan loves him and their baby. But he wants to meet this tiny little creature who's caused so much trouble but done such a good thing. He knows he wouldn't have the relationship he does with Dan if it weren't for their baby, and he's so grateful for that, because he knows now that Dan is the love of his life, his soulmate, his other half, however soppy it may seem.
And evidently, his body agrees with his brain, because he goes into labour before the race starts, holds on without telling anyone until Romain hits Dan and he thinks he's peed himself with the shock of it, only to be told by one of the medics that actually, his waters have just broken. So everything gets put aside then, media, debrief, everything. All that matters is that Dan is there to support Jean-Eric, to hold his hand, smooth damp hair from his forehead, give him water, and encourage him every single step of the way as Jean-Eric swings wildly from begging for drugs, to claiming he can't do this. It's Dan that keeps him grounded on the task in hand, it's Dan that tells him that he can do this, it's Dan who he draws strength from, and its Dan who hands him their baby, their daughter, wet and bloody and screaming, but she's perfect as she lies on Jean-Eric's chest, little limbs flailing as she yells out her displeasure at her new environment, and he cries as he runs fingers over her tiny body, amazed at how tiny her fingers are, how strong her grip is, how dark her eyes are, how delicate her tiny eyelashes are. He forgets all of the pain he's gone through to get her here because she's here, and Dan's kissing him, leaning over to greet their daughter too, and he's forgotten about all of the medical staff, because in this moment, its just about him, Dan and Alice.
It's Monday, bright and sunny and chaotic with the last of the pack up from the race, but its dark and quiet in Jean-Eric's hospital room. They're both exhausted, because Alice had insisted on arriving at three in the morning, but it doesn't matter. Not when she's laid asleep on Dan's chest, skin on skin, little mouth pursed up like Dan's does sometimes when he sleeps. Jean-Eric is yawning into Dan's shoulder, and they're both just staring at Alice as she sleeps. She seems so delicate, too tiny to be the baby that kept Jean-Eric awake with her kicking, but she is and she's perfect and she's theirs, clinging on to Dan's finger with one hand and Jean-Eric's with the other.
Being a father is by far the best thing that's happened to either of them, that much they're agreed on. Yes, Alice can shriek the house down, but its ok, because the best feeling in the world is no longer winning a race, but having your daughter fall asleep on you. (Race winning comes a close second though.) It's ok because she expresses her love through sleepy blinks and fingers curled tightly around theirs. It's ok because this is family, and family is more important than anything. It breaks Dan's heart to leave them behind to go to Canada, but it's ok because Jean-Eric clutches him close in his sleep when he returns, and even Alice waking up to demand food at five a.m seems like a welcome home, especially when he gets a smile, even if it is a gassy one.
They show her off at Silverstone. Romain delights over her, easily admits that he can't wait to join them in becoming a father. Even Marko offers a tight smile when Franz shows him her, fast asleep in his arms. Alice looks confused by her new headgear, massive headphones to protect her precious ears, but consents to sleep through the race, dozing in a carrier strapped to Jean-Eric's chest because she always sleeps better when she's sleeping on one of her parents and its amusing everyone in the garage, tiny Alice to coo over when its quiet for them.
"I missed you, yes I did. All the media kept asking me about you and I said you were perfect, and that's true, isn't it?" Dan coos, scooping Alice out of the carrier and cuddling her close, kissing the few soft curls that she has and breathing in her smell. Alice coos back at him, waving a fist at him.
"Nice to know I've been abandoned for the baby."
"Hey!" Dan protests, but grins. "Let me have my cuddle and then you can have yours."
"Baby cuddles are the best." Jean-Eric admits, smiles as he watches the two of them interact. This is his life, his boyfriend and his daughter, and he wouldn't change it for the world, he decides, as Dan sits next to him and hands over Alice, kisses him too, and says as much out loud, and yes. This is perfect.
Summary: Dan knocks up Jev. For motorskink. Mpreg. (One and One makes Three.)
Rating: Red flag.
Despite the fact that he's been feeling pretty crap for weeks, he's expecting to pass his end-of-season medical wiTh flying colours, it's hardly like he's actually ill, it's probably just the jet lag catching up with him, leaving him tired, aching and sometimes feeling rather sick. Jean-Eric certainly isn't expecting to be told that his urine results suggest that he's pregnant, that much can be determined from his sudden fainting episode. He wakes up in the local hospital, confused, but he's entirely aware of what this means, when he sees the baby for the first time, or what he's told is the baby, considering the fact that it really just looks like a blob until the technician finds the right angle and then he gasps, fighting the second fainting episode he can feel coming on to stare at the screen. "Shit."
Marko is furious. Especially when Jean-Eric is forced to admit who the father is. He hadn't intended on having sex with Dan when they'd started their celebrations of a double points score at Spa, but they had done, and now he's the one left regretting a drunken fumble in a club toilet, no matter how much he wants it again. He's never had sex like it, even if his memories are fuzzy behind the amount he'd had to drink, but god, he sobs, sat in his car, still outside the factory in Milton Keynes, he wishes it had never happened. They'd woken up pressed together, mostly naked save for Dan's shirt and one of Jean-Eric's socks, and Dan had murmured something sleepily into the back of Jean-Eric's neck, and Jean-Eric wishes that he could be back there, only if it meant that he was still a driver, he wasn't pregnant, and Dan still spoke to him. But neither of those things are true - his contract, freshly signed that morning, just before this had spiralled out of control, has been torn up, sat in pieces on the passenger seat because Marko did always like to rub failures in; the scan sits on top of the torn sheets of paper, his name printed at the top; and Dan still hasn't texted him, hasn't replied to the dozen or so texts Jean-Eric has sent since the end of the season, that last party together. Dan's in Australia anyway, Jean-Eric remembers, and reaches for another tissue, blows his nose messily into it and decides that he's sick of sobbing in Red Bull's car park, its hardly like Jean-Eric has anyone he can talk to. And with that, he decides that the best course of action is to hit Tesco for some chocolate and cry some more on his sofa.
The news breaks overnight. Marko's doing, no doubt, judging by the numerous times the man's quoted in the articles. Jean-Eric reads most of the articles knelt on the bathroom floor, in between throwing up all the chocolate he ate yesterday. It's hardly like his diet matters anymore, he reasoned, between sniffles. Dan doesn't call, text, email, reply to any of his messages, anything, even if he must know the news - it's hardly like he's somewhere unreachable, Australia's pretty easy to contact.
Maybe there's a reason why Dan didn't contact him after the news broke, Jean-Eric admits, staring at the text he's just received. It's six o'clock in the evening, he's upstairs chucking his guts up again (he's three months pregnant, he thought this faded after then but apparently not) and even his rolling stomach can't distract him from four words on a screen. We need to talk. Shit.
Dan arrives when the sickness has finally stopped, and Jean-Eric is curled up on the sofa with his duvet and a film that he can't concentrate on. "Hi." He says, having let himself in. He still has keys, dangling from his fingers. Jean-Eric mutes the TV, looks up and sighs.
"Sorry."
"You weren't the one who forgot to use a condom."
"Equal blame, I think." Jean-Eric yawns, tugs his duvet over so Dan has some room to sit down.
"Marko's pissed."
"Yeah, I know. You're going to have a new teammate next year."
"What?"
"That was my contract." Jean-Eric nods at the torn pieces of paper piled on the coffee table. "And I can't drive pregnant anyway."
"You're keeping it?" Jean-Eric shrugs.
"Everyone knows now anyway."
"It's your choice." Dan says, absently tugs Jean-Eric's feet into his lap, settles his hand over one of his feet, thumb absently rubbing over his ankle.
"Technically, I don't have one." Jean-Eric adds, tosses a leaflet from the coffee table to Dan. "I'm more than three months pregnant. We're stuck with this. And I'm sorry I had to tell Marko you were the father."
"I'm sorry too."
"Does everyone know you're the father, or?"
"Marko and Franz. And Dietrich, presumably." Dan says, frowns. "How are you, anyway, you're the one who's had this just dumped on you."
"Sick." Jean-Eric laughs, rubs his sore stomach. The muscles ache with how violently he'd thrown up. He hopes it goes away soon.
"Oh."
"Normal, apparently. I wish it wasn't."
"It'll go soon, though, right?"
"I hope so." Jean-Eric yawns. God, his entire body aches, especially his head.
"Come on. We can think better in the morning." Jean-Eric stretches, gathering up his duvet, yawns again, offers a hand to Dan. "Huh?"
"Spare room's sort of unavailable. The sofa's uncomfy too."
"Suppose we've already got a child on the way." Dan winks, follows Jean-Eric upstairs and flops down in just his boxers next to him. Jean-Eric turns off the lights, lays out on his back and sighs, smoothes a hand over his still flat stomach.
Neither of them can sleep. They toss and turn for most of the night, careful to keep distance between them, until Jean-Eric rolls out of bed to throw up. Dan follows him into the bathroom, smoothes his hair back from his face, strokes his back, gets a glass of water for him, wipes his face and lets Jean-Eric cry into his shoulder. They talk there and then, wrapped in towels to keep warm on the cold tile, Jean-Eric tucked into Daniel's side. They talk for hours about their relationship, how they've been skirting around it since they met, how on earth they managed to actually end up fucking after the Belgian Grand Prix. And then they finally sleep, pressed together like they've wanted to for a long time.
But life goes on outside the bubble of Jean-Eric's bedroom. And while they've been sorting out what they want from each other, people have been talking, gossiping. The F1 magazines Dan finds in the supermarket when he does a groceries run are covered with the story. He buys them anyway, careful to hide them to read them before Jean-Eric can.
The nicest articles merely give him an outside chance of returning. The worst, well. He takes delight in burning the worst over his barbecue, having returned to his house to collect his mail.
Jean-Eric's awake when he returns, reading through a replacement contract. He grins with delight at Dan, waves it a little. "Dietrich went mental at Marko."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah! Something about him knowing what it was like to be a man and pregnant or something. Either way-"
"Can't complain." Dan grins. "Oh, it is good to know you'll be back racing against me. I'll beat you, of course."
"Dream on." Jean-Eric laughs, tugs Dan down to sit next to him.
"I will." Dan laughs too, peers at the contract. "We still haven't talked about the elephant in the room though."
"Elephant?"
"Figure of speech. I meant the baby." Jean-Eric sighs in response to Dan's words, flops back on the sofa.
"Are you ready to a father? I'm not."
"By the time the baby arrives, I think we will be."
Christmas is spent explaining the whole situation to Jean-Eric's family. Dan spends most of the day looking steadily more confused and apologetic at the fierce glares he's getting, Jean-Eric spends most of it either inhaling food or explaining themselves. Dan's family is still unaware, but even with selling both of their houses to move into a new one, they really daren't spare the cash to go visit, not when Dan spent an evening scrolling through Mothercare and gasping at the prices. Especially not when Jean-Eric's contract means he's not actually being paid that much. But he'll take it, because there's nothing else available.
This means they tell Dan's family over Skype, with Jean-Eric leaving the conversation to go throw up before they've even told them the full story. They sit together on Jean-Eric's childhood bed and explain themselves, or at least attempt to. It doesn't go well. The fact that it's not in person doesn't help, and it sort of ruins Christmas, to find themselves sat staring at the wall, trying not to let the rejection affect them because this is Christmas, they're not supposed to be miserable.
It doesn't stop them from squishing together and trying not to cry though. Because even when you're an adult, rejection hurts, but it hurts just a little less when there's someone who loves you to cuddle, to share the hurt.
New Year's involves their first kiss since this whole thing started. They're stood in their new kitchen, listening to the countdown on the BBC, and Dan kisses Jean-Eric on the first chime of Big Ben, curving hands around his face, lips gentle against Jean-Eric's. Jean-Eric lets his eyes fall closed, responds just as gently, one hand falling onto Dan's shoulder, keeping him close. "We can do this." Dan whispers, once they've broken apart, hugging him close. Jean-Eric wraps his arms around Dan's back, breathes in the scent of his hair.
"Yeah."
And that's that. They've got no other choice - they're having a baby, they're going to have to make the most of it. Jean-Eric ignores the hate, the sometimes near-constant stream of abuse he gets from some people on Twitter, the insults that come from the knowledge that he's gay, that he bottoms, that he, to quote someone, 'takes it up the arse'. That had been the only tweet Dan had laughed at, said that Jean-Eric quite liked taking it up the arse as far as he could recall and laughed till he cried as Jean-Eric had flung every cushion on the sofa at him.
It's the beginning of February when Jean-Eric's stomach goes from perfectly flat to slightly rounded. Dan's the first to notice it, when they're sleepily pressed together in the shower, their intimacy having developed now they're living together, sharing personal space, a bathroom, a bed. They've never gone further than kissing though, no matter how naked they might be at the time, for reasons they can't work out. Maybe it's because they still really need to talk about this, but for now, they can cope without talking, just doing what they want without questioning it. He curves his palm over it, nudges his nose against Jean-Eric's ear, kisses the back of his neck. "You've got a bump." Jean-Eric steps backwards slightly into Dan's embrace, looks down at his body.
"Huh." He says, brushes his fingers around Dan's. "I do."
"That's our baby in there." Dan sounds astounded at this fact.
"Uh huh." Jean-Eric marvels too. "I still can't believe it's testing in three days time and I will not be driving."
"You get to watch me though."
"Yes, but with Marko giving me evils."
"Pah, he's just jealous." Dan snickers, bites at Jean-Eric's shoulder. "That I get all of this and he doesn't."
"Never mention him in this situation again." Jean-Eric replies, twists around in Dan's arms and kisses him properly, rubs up against him like they had done fully clothing that fateful night in Belgium. Only this time its skin-on-skin, and its wonderful, and he may have only experienced this once before, but he's missed it, because he's never felt anything what he feels with Dan ever, and he doesn't ever want to have to give this up.
The first time they fire up Dan's car in Jerez, Jean-Eric feels the baby move for the first time. He thinks its gas, at first, but then he realises that its not, that these butterflies are his baby moving, and he smiles, looking down at his bump. It's the picture of him that makes all the headlines, him still miraculously a reserve driver, smiling down at his bump, barely noticeable under the number of layers he has on in the cold garage but obvious when you consider the hands he has pressed to it. Dan asks later, when he's sneaked into Jean-Eric's room, why he was smiling. And Jean-Eric tells him, grinning into their kiss before he's nudged onto his back, Dan tracing patterns over his stomach, murmuring quietly to the skin there like the baby's already listening. That's how he falls asleep, listening to Dan tell their baby about his day driving the car.
Testing's definitely more boring when he's sat watching it from in the garage. Dan and Sebastien do a good enough job, and he still sees all the data, can still suggest improvements, can still let his brain work like it used to, like he misses it working when he's not driving his car. His car. Sebastien's car, now. Well, again, technically. He wonders how it must feel, for Sebastien, to have the car back for half a season. He's getting the car back in Spa, a year after the baby was conceived, if Dietrich and Franz can be trusted. He hopes they can be. He misses it.
They decide to go to Australia two weeks early. They settle it with the team, and head off. Dan reads "What To Expect When You're Expecting" on the planes, Jean-Eric sleeps for most of them. His bump's grown considerably in a month and a half, obvious now even under clothing. It's obvious when Dan's mother opens the door to find them, Dan only just keeping a mostly-asleep Jean-Eric upright. His Mum lets them in, can't help the smile at her son nudging his boyfriend up to his old room.
Dan may have spent most of the flight awake, but he's still awake when Jean-Eric wakes and wanders down to try to find him, disorientated in the unfamiliar house. Dan smiles tiredly at him from the sofa, beckons him over, arranges them so Jean-Eric can wake up some more while they're cuddled together. "You could have told me in person."
"We thought telling you as soon as possible was the better idea. And we're saving all the money possible, right now." Dan explains, yawns. Jean-Eric looks up at him, blinks a couple of times, smiles as Daniel's fingers entwine with his over his bump.
"I'll forgive you." She smiles at them, gets up as the front door opens and shuts. "We've got visitors!" She calls, welcoming her husband to the room. Dan grins at his Dad from the sofa, Jean-Eric offers a wave.
"Well, I hope my boy's gonna do the right thing, seen as he's got you in this mess." Dan's Dad says, offers a hand for Jean-Eric to shake.
"He is." Jean-Eric replies, smiles because this is the opposite of what he'd spent hours awake worrying about, worried that this would go the same way as the Skype call all those months ago. He knew then that it had been right to wait until they could make this trip out, even more so when the baby wriggles around again, like he or she has been doing more often as he or she grows.
"Hey! She didn't-" Dan gasps, eyes delighted when Jean-Eric turns his head to look at him.
"She kicked you." He grins back at him, laughs when Dan moves away from him slightly so he can lay both hands over his bump, waiting for the baby to move again. Dan's parents disappear quietly, leave them too their moment.
"Wow." Dan whispers, settling his hands on Jean-Eric's skin when Jean-Eric tugs his t-shirt up, nudging Dan's hands to where he can feel the baby is. "Like, it's real now, there's actually a baby in there."
"I hope so. And it's not like, an alien or something." Jean-Eric laughs, the movement creating a flurry of motion from the baby.
"Would sort of spoil the party." Dan murmurs to the skin below Jean-Eric's belly button, kissing his bump.
Unfortunately, their happiness is ruined when they get caught by the media. Jean-Eric has become popular media fodder, the F1 star disgraced by a pregnancy, and even more so when he's accompanying Dan, in Dan's home town, and they're photographed kissing while watching the waves at the beach. It had been a spur of the moment thing, Dan brushing a kiss over Jean-Eric's jaw as they'd sat on a bench, discussing something or other. That's irrelevant now, when there's headline after headline of their relationship, of one photo of a kiss, of more insults, and the dozens of voicemails and messages stacking up on their phones.
Jean-Eric spends the entire day in bed, watching his phone bleep with each new message until it turns itself off. Dan spends the entire day pacing the kitchen, arguing down a phone line until he's lost his voice and he's agreed on a statement that the team will put out.
The only reason Franz lets Jean-Eric stay with the team is because the relationship is already settled. They're having a baby together, and they'd already got through a year of being teammates in F1, years of being teammates in the junior formula, Franz knows that they can work together, fight against each other. The only thing that the competition has done is drive them closer together. And so what happens on the track, stays on the track.
And so despite the catcalls that follow them through the paddock on Thursday, Jean-Eric holds his head high and deliberately finds an outfit that shows off his bump. He shouts and yells on Sunday, feeling the baby squirm around, reacting to his voice, the speeding up of his heart rate at the crucial moments, and the little movements soothe him a little when Dan has to retire. They certainly cheer up Dan, at any rate, when they finally finish the debrief and then sit in Dan's room for a little while, just feeling him or her move around a little before she evidently goes to sleep, tired out by the race too.
It seems that with every passing day, Dan gets a little more excited about the baby. He's allowed to publicly be excited now, to rub the bump for good luck before each session, to get a good luck kiss before the race.
And each passing evening becomes Dan's time to explore Jean-Eric's changing body, bond with their unborn baby. Dan spends hours trailing his fingers over Jean-Eric's bump, kissing every single of the still faint stretch marks as they spread along the underneath of the bump. They spend hours with hands pressed to skin so they can feel every movement their baby makes. Dan buys a few story books, reads them to the bump, even properly starts learning French, soon proficient enough to understand French stories too. Every evening Jean-Eric learns something new about what their baby can do now, and every evening, they learn something new about each other. Sometimes, Jean-Eric falls asleep quickly, lulled by soft words. Other times, Dan's touch sparks something underneath his skin, and they learn each other's bodies, learn how to take pleasure from each other's bodies.
And with each passing day, Dan becomes more determined to make their house a home. He's nesting, though he denies it every time Jean-Eric suggests it. Every day when they're not at a race, every hour when they're not training, working in the factory, Dan spends decorating. He tears paper from the walls, repapers, repaints, sorts out their combined furniture, drags Jean-Eric out to shop after shop to decorate their nursery, buys him orange after orange to satisfy his cravings and placate him when he gets annoyed at the amount of his t-shirts that have paint smudges up the front where his bump has accidentally brushed a still-damp door or wall. It's worth it though, Jean-Eric admits, when its their home they return to, when he can sit in the middle of the nursery floor and stare around and think of the little human being that's going to be the perfect mixture of him and Dan. The entire nursery is themed around Alice in Wonderland, after the baby seemed to have taken to the tale with delight. He or she had squirmed around like crazy when Dan read it to her, mouth pressed to Jean-Eric's skin, the vibrations from his voice echoing through to their baby. It had made Dan suggest the name Alice, or Louis. Even if it had seemed like they were naming their baby after Hamilton, Jean-Eric had agreed, suddenly overwhelmed by the love he feels for the family he's making for himself.
They can see the baby move underneath the taut skin of Jean-Eric's bump by Spain. His belly-button's popped out too, and Dan had laughed till he couldn't stand up anymore at the shocked yell Jean-Eric had given when it happened. It had been in the paddock too, Jean-Eric yanking his t-shirt up in shock at the odd sensation, to examine his new outie as Dan had giggled himself into hiccoughs. As if in sympathy, the baby had broken out in them too, and that had been weird to watch, the bump jumping every time the baby had hiccoughed.
In Monaco, Jean-Eric's tired of being pregnant. He really is. He's loved every minute of it (except the ones where his career had been at stake, but then there's more to life than racing, and he really is glad that he's found something other than Formula One to concentrate on.), every kick (except the ones that hurt, because he'd thought it had been painful when someone punched your kidney but nobody had mentioned how much it hurt when a not-even-born yet baby had kicked it from inside), every one of the little dances his baby had seemed to do (except the ones that had kept him awake), every kiss Dan has given the bump, every fairytale read out loud, every time he's been told how much Dan loves him and their baby. But he wants to meet this tiny little creature who's caused so much trouble but done such a good thing. He knows he wouldn't have the relationship he does with Dan if it weren't for their baby, and he's so grateful for that, because he knows now that Dan is the love of his life, his soulmate, his other half, however soppy it may seem.
And evidently, his body agrees with his brain, because he goes into labour before the race starts, holds on without telling anyone until Romain hits Dan and he thinks he's peed himself with the shock of it, only to be told by one of the medics that actually, his waters have just broken. So everything gets put aside then, media, debrief, everything. All that matters is that Dan is there to support Jean-Eric, to hold his hand, smooth damp hair from his forehead, give him water, and encourage him every single step of the way as Jean-Eric swings wildly from begging for drugs, to claiming he can't do this. It's Dan that keeps him grounded on the task in hand, it's Dan that tells him that he can do this, it's Dan who he draws strength from, and its Dan who hands him their baby, their daughter, wet and bloody and screaming, but she's perfect as she lies on Jean-Eric's chest, little limbs flailing as she yells out her displeasure at her new environment, and he cries as he runs fingers over her tiny body, amazed at how tiny her fingers are, how strong her grip is, how dark her eyes are, how delicate her tiny eyelashes are. He forgets all of the pain he's gone through to get her here because she's here, and Dan's kissing him, leaning over to greet their daughter too, and he's forgotten about all of the medical staff, because in this moment, its just about him, Dan and Alice.
It's Monday, bright and sunny and chaotic with the last of the pack up from the race, but its dark and quiet in Jean-Eric's hospital room. They're both exhausted, because Alice had insisted on arriving at three in the morning, but it doesn't matter. Not when she's laid asleep on Dan's chest, skin on skin, little mouth pursed up like Dan's does sometimes when he sleeps. Jean-Eric is yawning into Dan's shoulder, and they're both just staring at Alice as she sleeps. She seems so delicate, too tiny to be the baby that kept Jean-Eric awake with her kicking, but she is and she's perfect and she's theirs, clinging on to Dan's finger with one hand and Jean-Eric's with the other.
Being a father is by far the best thing that's happened to either of them, that much they're agreed on. Yes, Alice can shriek the house down, but its ok, because the best feeling in the world is no longer winning a race, but having your daughter fall asleep on you. (Race winning comes a close second though.) It's ok because she expresses her love through sleepy blinks and fingers curled tightly around theirs. It's ok because this is family, and family is more important than anything. It breaks Dan's heart to leave them behind to go to Canada, but it's ok because Jean-Eric clutches him close in his sleep when he returns, and even Alice waking up to demand food at five a.m seems like a welcome home, especially when he gets a smile, even if it is a gassy one.
They show her off at Silverstone. Romain delights over her, easily admits that he can't wait to join them in becoming a father. Even Marko offers a tight smile when Franz shows him her, fast asleep in his arms. Alice looks confused by her new headgear, massive headphones to protect her precious ears, but consents to sleep through the race, dozing in a carrier strapped to Jean-Eric's chest because she always sleeps better when she's sleeping on one of her parents and its amusing everyone in the garage, tiny Alice to coo over when its quiet for them.
"I missed you, yes I did. All the media kept asking me about you and I said you were perfect, and that's true, isn't it?" Dan coos, scooping Alice out of the carrier and cuddling her close, kissing the few soft curls that she has and breathing in her smell. Alice coos back at him, waving a fist at him.
"Nice to know I've been abandoned for the baby."
"Hey!" Dan protests, but grins. "Let me have my cuddle and then you can have yours."
"Baby cuddles are the best." Jean-Eric admits, smiles as he watches the two of them interact. This is his life, his boyfriend and his daughter, and he wouldn't change it for the world, he decides, as Dan sits next to him and hands over Alice, kisses him too, and says as much out loud, and yes. This is perfect.