Chapter Text
It had been two weeks since the crash, and Nyck had spent almost every second of that fortnight at Stoffel’s bedside. Only twice had he left, and that was only when Lando Norris had turned up and threatened to call Fernando on him unless he went home, ate something and “for the love of fuck, Nyck, have a shower, you stink!”
Not once during those two weeks had Stoffel stirred, not that Nyck cared. The beep-beep-beeping of the ECG machine was enough to reassure any worries he had.
Hand clasped in his husband’s, Nyck idly played with the gold band on Stoffel’s left ring finger. Memories of their wedding day filtered through his mind, and Nyck smiled.
To sound absolutely cliché, it was the happiest day of his life, by a country mile. He’d been terrified, pacing the length of his room back and forth, so much so that Antonio had been worried he’d wear a hole in the carpet, worrying that he’d get out onto the stage and everyone would laugh at him for being so foolish.
He hadn’t needed to worry, naturally, and the wedding had gone on without a hitch. Despite Mitch’s suggestive comments, the night had been much more subdued than the day, both grooms far too tired for any traditional wedding night activities and ended up falling asleep only half-out of their wedding attire.
A small twitch brought him out of his musings and his head snapped down, just catching the slight tremble of Stoff’s pointer finger.
A large grin spread across his face and he leaned down closer to Stoffel.
“Stoffie?” He whispered in a voice that, if he was ever heard, he would completely deny sounded squeaky.
Stoffel’s finger twitched again and Nyck grasped his hand tighter.
“Stoffie? Can you hear me?”
Stoffel let out a small groan, head turning towards Nyck’s voice. After what felt like centuries, the Belgian’s eyes fluttered open.
Nyck couldn’t help the gasp that left his mouth, he hadn’t seen his husband’s eyes in weeks, not since that fateful day, and damned if he hadn’t just fallen in love with them all over again.
Stoffel squeezed his eyes shut almost as quickly as he had opened them, and slowly, gently, gradually opened them again. Clouded and hazy, the blue-green orbs slowly focused on Nyck.
“N’ck?” Stoffel murmured, flexing the hand Nyck was clutching to as if his life depended on it.
“Heya, Stoffie,” Nyck smiled softly, loosening his grip on Stoffel’s hand. Stoffel reached out, letting his fingers trail over Nyck’s cheekbones, leaving butterfly kisses over the Dutchman’s skin.
Nyck clenched his eyes shut, leaning into his husband’s touch. Tears leaked from his eyes and he wasn’t strong enough to stop them.
Instantly, he felt Stoffel wipe them away and pull him into the Belgian's shoulder. Sobbing into his husband’s shoulder, Nyck let the stress and emotions of the past two weeks finally overcome him.
Stoffel rocked him slightly, making Nyck laugh a little. Stoff had the ability to make Nyck feel like a child; warm and safe and loved in a parent’s arms.
Which seemed like a weird comparison but Nyck was just so tired that couldn’t muster the will to care.
His eyes began to slip closed, finally lured into the land of sleep by the safe embrace of his husband, and the comforting rhythm of Stoffel’s heart beating right next to his ear.