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It was after Malaysia that Fernando knew. When he saw the footage from the end of the race; Andrea crying with happiness and relief on the pitwall. Maybe it had always been there, but that unexpected win had set it, them, free.
Fernando would never forget that first tentative, soft kiss. It had been gentle, almost apologetic; the two of them scared and reluctant to take their friendship one step further. Both quiet, serious, and calm, there had been no grand shows of passion, no declarations of undying love - there had just been them, a kiss, and a realisation that the other felt the same.
It was times like this that Fernando enjoyed the most. When he was lying in bed, watching Andrea sleep as he waited for the older man to wake up. Fernando liked how much less stern his race engineer looked when he was sleeping. Andrea was almost as intense as he was, and in these moments of slumber, Fernando was able to see how the lines in his forehead disappeared and his mouth softened from its usual hard, determined line.
“Andrea,” he hissed in the darkness, lightly brushing his hand against the Italian’s chest. “Andrea,” he repeated, more loudly, as the other man started to stir.
Andrea had told him that he didn’t know what to think when he’d been told he’d be working with Fernando Alonso after Kimi left. He’d said that he and Kimi had always gotten along very well; that there had been part of him that was worried about working with the ‘diva’ Alonso.
“Wouldn’t you prefer to work with Rob?” Andrea had asked him, once. They’d been out for dinner, and he’d been a little tipsy on red wine; his face reddening slightly when he’d asked. Fernando hadn’t been sure at the time whether it had gone that colour because of the alcohol or the question. “You worked with him before,” he’d said.
Fernando had shrugged, shaken his head. No. He did not want to work with the other race engineer. He saw the way his teammate and Rob acted together - the practical jokes, the silly radio messages, the constant winks and hugs and slaps on the back. Even at race debriefings they would sit, joshing one another about the other’s appearance, or favourite football team or whatever, and sometimes all Fernando wanted to do was just tell them to shut up. He saw Rob give TV interviews during race weekends - Mr In Demand; read fans gushing online about something supposedly amusing he’d said to Felipe over the radio. During those times, Fernando enjoyed simply sitting down with Andrea to talk rationally about F1, or going out for a simple dinner with him, where they’d talk seriously about their lives, or about the next race. Andrea wasn’t extroverted or flashy - he was just him, and that was good enough.
“Wake up,” Fernando said, not even bothering to whisper any longer. Andrea gave a slight grunt as his eyes opened.
“Time?”
“2am.”
“Fernando... “
“I know, I know,” Fernando smiled, cupping Andrea’s face in his palm gently. “But I just wanted to do this... “
Fernando leant over and placed a kiss on Andrea’s lips. Even now, after a couple of months of being this way together, he still felt nervous at making such a move. Andrea calmed him, made him behave the way he always knew he should within a team. No more temper tantrums; no more arguments. The older man’s unassuming ways had curbed some of the turmoil within Fernando, and he was ever grateful for that. Sometimes he still felt unsure of himself - like the shy, awkward boy he had been when he was younger, but with Andrea - he felt secure; whether it was lying in bed like right now, kissing him, or if he was on the track, Andrea’s cool, soothing voice in his ears, telling him to push, reassuring him of what he needed to do; of what he could do.
“Now you sleep,” Andrea mumbled through Fernando’s kisses; his words saying one thing but his body saying differently as he placed a hand on the small of Fernando’s back. Fernando shivered at the cold touch of his palm, and nuzzled his face in Andrea’s chest, giving small moans of satisfaction at the feel of Andrea’s lightly haired body against his cheek.
“Sleep later,” Fernando said, pulling out of Andrea’s embrace and edging his way down the bed. He ran his tongue down from the Italian’s stomach to the tops of his thighs, knowing that no matter how much Andrea might protest; tell him that had to rest before a busy race weekend, he enjoyed this just as much. Always he enjoyed it, quietly.
Fernando placed a soft kiss on the fleshy part of Andrea’s thigh and allowed his tongue to delicately travel inward. Slowly, slowly.
He felt a tug at his hair.
“What are you doing?” Andrea asked gently.
Fernando gave a soft chuckle before answering.
“I’m using my talent.”