Racing Blood

[larascasse]

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Title: Racing Blood
Characters: James Hunt, Niki Lauda
Rating: Yellow Flag
Summary: Niki and James realise that the right choice isn't always the easy choice.
Warning: mpreg
Disclaimer: This isn't real, you know the drill.
A/N: Inspired by a Tumblr post zecurlyone showed me. Unbeta'd because I was too lazy. Timelines altered because I can.



There was something about James that irritated him more than usual these days, the habits he normally tolerated just fine, the drinking, the smoking, the recklessness, somehow gratedhim to the core, and when he bluntly mentioned it to James, he just shrugged and laughed, telling him to loosen up.

"Fuck you Hunt," Niki swore as he left his home, leaving James to care for himself, which Niki knew meant he'd come back to find him asleep on the rug in front of the fireplace, or maybe on the couch, his hands still wrapped around a bottle of liquor even while sleeping.

Niki drove for miles, the empty mountain roads offering him the peace of mind he often needed after being in the house with James for too long. He'd never want to replace him though, because as much as James infuriated him on almost a daily basis, his love was as intense, as passionate, and as unrelenting as the stubborn way he chose to live his life.

Niki prided himself in being a self-aware individual; just as he could diagnose a car's mechanical problems by driving it, Niki could tell something about himself was off, out of place, even if he didn't feel ill or had physical symptoms, which is why when he had enough of driving, he didn't go straight home, but rather made an impromptu stop at his doctor's office.

"Something is wrong with me," Niki told the doctor.

"You don't look or sound ill, where does it hurt?"

"Nothing hurts," Niki answered, sitting somewhat impatiently on the bed.

The doctor took Niki's pressure, checked his breathing, and gave him a quick lookover, but couldn't find anything. "Everything looks fine Niki," the doctor tells him.

"Something is wrong with me, run more checks."

The doctor sighed, but thought better than to argue with his patient. "Fine," he said, handing over an empty plastic container to Niki. "Fill this, we'll run more tests."

Niki took the container with a quick thank you and proceeded to the bathroom to provide a sample for analysis before leaving, satisfied that his health would be looked into.

When Niki came back home, as expected, James was asleep on the couch, an arm hanging down, fingers just touching the rim of a glass of whisky, and a book open on his chest. Niki grabbed a blanket and placed it over James, taking the book off of him and the glass off the floor. It's not until he was in the kitchen, sipping the rest of James' whisky that Niki noticed what the book was in fact a photo album, their photo album. He flipped through a few pages, smiling at some of the pictures: podiums, holidays, and even some of regular days; James playing with the dog, Niki eating cereal, the mundane moments of their life, the moments that belonged to them and them alone, unlike the rest of their very public life.

It's already bright outside when James comes waddling into the bedroom, collapsing his entire body on top of Niki as a means to wake him up, kissing his neck repeatedly while saying his name.

"What do you want James," Niki mutters as he wakes up, smiling despite the sudden awakening.

"The doc is on the phone, says he needs to speak with you, wouldn't tell me about what," James says, propping himself up on his elbows to look at Niki in the eyes. "What is this about Niki?"

Niki looks away, pushes James off of him and grabs a shirt and pants to wear before answering the phone. Unlike James, Niki believed one should be fully dressed outside the confines of the bedroom and bathroom, not that Niki's beliefs stopped James from pulling him into secluded corners, closets or cars to attend to his urges.

"Doctor?" Niki answered the phone, keeping an eye on the door in case James walked in.

"Niki, the results are back. It could be a mistake from the lab, a mix up with someone else's samples, but just to be certain, we'd like you to drop by the office for retesting."

Niki fiddled nervously with the phone cord, something in the back of his mind telling him there was no mix up. If the overbite and the burn scars weren't enough to make him stand out as the odd one in the crowd, this certainly would.

"Niki? Are you still there?" the doctor asked.

"Yes. It's a pregnancy, isn't it?"

"Yes...like I said, this is likely a mistake from the lab, if we get ano-"

"No need doctor. You did your job."

"You cannot seriously think this is correct?" the doctor asked, almost more shocked by Niki's reaction than he had been of the results when he first saw them.

"There is family history. How far along did the test indicate?"

Niki heard silence followed by the sound of paper being ruffled. "Six weeks."

Niki booked another appointment before hanging up. "Six weeks," he whispered to himself.

"What's in six weeks?" James asked as he walked in the kitchen, opening the fridge door to find something to eat for breakfast, grabbing the egg carton and the orange juice.

"I'm pregnant," Niki told him. No point in hiding it really, even someone as unobservant as James would eventually see his growing belly.

James just looked at him, cocking his head to the side, studying Niki's face. "If it'd been anyone else telling me this, I would have assumed a poor attempt at a farce. But you Niki, you don't do funny." James put down the breakfast items on the counter and lit up a cigarette, taking a long draw from it. "I won't even ask how. I'm not sure I want to know. Just tell me this. Is it -"

"Yours?" Niki finished before nodding. "Yes asshole. You fucking knocked me up."

James turns around with a grin and starts cookng breakfast. "Vodka with the orange juice then?"

"Make it a double, since this will be the last for a while," Niki told him.

"So what are we doing about this?" James said as he sat down with their plates, for once willing to have a grown up discussion, to Niki's surprise.

"We can't keep it, we'd be shit parents," he told James, and although he saw a glimpse of disappointment in his eyes, James agreed. It would be hard not to agree with that logic though, as they sat drinking vodka at eight in the morning, James still smoking, discussing a child from a relationship that, to the rest of the world, was nothing more than a fierce rivalry.

"Abortion?" James asked, spinning the glass in his hands.

"Adoption?" Niki countered, because he simply couldn't be the one to deny a life that could be. He had been spared his after the accident, and if in return he was meant to give one back, he'd gladly do it.

"You're insane Lauda. You know that kid is going to be one ugly duckling with your genes, right? Noone might want it. We might have to keep it."

"Fuck you James," Niki said, but smiled and leaned into James' touch, letting himself be pulled into a comforting hug.

"This isn't going to be easy."

"When has anything been easy?" Niki asked rethorically. Nothing ever came easy. They'd both fought to find a way into Formula One, and every season, every race, was a fight to stay there, to prove to teams, sponsors, and themselves that they belonged.

It was fairly easy for Niki to step away from racing altogether. It's something he had been thinking about even before finding out he was pregnant. He wanted to leave the sport while he was still on top, not wait until his form dropped and he got demoted to a lesser team, or god forbid, until he had another accident. It had taken a lot of courage for Niki to start racing again after his accident, the drive to win barely winning out over the fear for his life. This time though, he already had championships, so the drive to win wasn't as intense, and he no longer feared only for his life, but for that of his unborn child as well, regardless that the child wouldn't actually be his in the end.

Niki still loved to drive though, and sometimes James would join him on car journeys that had no destinations, just miles and miles of road leading to places that didn't matter. "You think he'll be a racer?" James asked, breaking the silence as he stared out the window. They found out weeks ago already that the child was a boy, which had James excited, and he kept telling Niki how he would never have been able to deal with a daughter, because men were untrustworthy and she'd never be safe in the world, and he wouldn't have been able to protect her. Niki had just laughed and told James that he was exactly the kind of man every father feared their daughters would meet. "What about their sons?" James had asked, kissing Niki teasingly.

"Why would he be a racer?" Niki answered in response to James.

"Racing will be in his blood. Two world champions as parents. How can he not?"

"His parents won't be racers, James," Niki reminded him, not mentioning the growing apprehension he had himself with giving up the baby.

"I know," James said, drumming absently on the door handle of the car. "But he'd be a great racer. I know it."

Niki smiled, because he could see just how much James cared, how enamored he was with the idea of having a child. "Maybe he will some day."

Niki was lucky that the pregnancy was uneventful, managing to keep out of the public eye even when it was time to deliver the baby. A few close friends and family members were informed of the situation, but Niki had only allowed James to be at the hospital when he went in for the c-section.

"He's..."

"What? An ugly duckling?" Niki laughed tiredly, glad to finally be alone in his own body.

"He's beautiful," James said as he held the little bundle, cooing at it lovingly.

James gave Niki the child and sat on the bed next to him, massaging Niki's shoulders. "He looks like you," Niki said, looking at the baby in his arms, pale skin and blue eyes.

"The adoptive parents are here, you still okay with this?" James asked, and a part of Niki wished they could give the child the family he deserved, the family both James and him longed for, but he knew better than to think it's something they could deliver. If they couldn't even admit to the world that they were together, how could they expect to raise a child together. Neither of them was ready for this, not yet, and certainly not together.

"Yes, it's for the best."

"Mr. And Mrs. Raikkonen," the doctor greeted as he brought them in Niki's hospital room, "meet your son."

James took the baby back from Niki and gazed at him for a few more seconds before giving it to his adpotive parents who had tears of joy in their eyes when Mrs. Raikkonen held the little boy. Niki knew right at that moment that they had made the right choice. The Raikkonens would give their child the love and family he deserved.

"Thank you," Mr. Raikkonen said as he shook James' hand and then Niki's. "This is our secret, we promise."

"Do you have a name for him?" Niki asked. He had no intention on getting involved with the child's life, but he needed to at least know that.

"Kimi," Mrs. Raikkonen told him with a smile, her eyes still teary as she looked at the child in her arms.

After Kimi, they had talked about having children, but the conclusion was always the same. They couldn't, not together. So they continued on, together, while they each found a wife to have the children they wanted. Kimi though, was the one they talked about when they laid in bed at night, huddled in each other's arms, hurting and feeling guilty for not being there for him, but reassuring themselves that the decision had been the right one.

~*~

"You're never going to tell him, are you?" Jackie asked him as he caught Niki staring once again.

"No."

"James would be proud of him."

"James would have smacked him behind the head for not winning sooner, but yes, he would have been proud. Just like I am."

"Do I detect some emotion from you Lauda?"

"Fuck off."

And Jackie did, leaving Niki to enjoy the sight of his son becoming world champion, wishing James was still alive to witness it as well.

.