Half a year later ...

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— Yuki Tsunoda, come here immediately or I'll call Franz - I threatened my new teammate, who was a short Japanese man with funny eyes and a strange ability to talk and argue with literally everyone.  We were in the lobby of a hotel where we arrived for another Formula 1 weekend. Quite a cozy hotel not far from the racetrack, our workplace for the next three days.

—Oh Pierre!  What is it about?  —As usual, he was acting innocent.  He probably expected his cute expressions to distract from what he had done.  Its never coming!  I flicked his forehead with my fingers so that he leaned a little backwards.

—You tell me, I think you know it perfectly well.

— Eeeee?

— Tsunoda!  Don't indulge yourself even more!

— But I really don't know what's going on!  —What the hell?  He was such a good actor, didn't he really know?  His expressions could be one or the other.  I have to be careful who knows what else is up.

— Where's my suitcase?

— Y-your-suitcase?  —He was stuttering.  Suddenly he avoided my eyesight and he rubbed his neck nervously with his hand.  It got darker.  So the suitcase is with him.  Great, I'll go get it myself.

As I thought, I did, leaving the bewildered Japanese man in the middle of the hotel, right next to reception.  Yuki was temporarily living in the room across from me.  Franz warned me that if there were any conflicts between us, he would put us in one room with a small bed.  Our boss thought it was quite funny, and at the same time, that only this would put an end to the fights and teasing between us that had been here since the very beginning of our very complicated relationship.  It was so fatal that Yuki didn't fail to mention one small detail that turned out to be important.  That he is gay.

I tried to enter his room, but he caught up with me and stood straight ahead, looking me in the eye and covering the door.  What did he want?  After all, I won't get picked up, I'm not gay, I prefer a women.  Really!

Okay, even in my own thoughts it sounded disturbingly desperate, as if I was trying to force myself to tell something.  Something that was quite far from the truth.

—Yuki, I'm saying goodness, stand back and let me into your room.  I'll just take what's mine and go back to myself.

— Not so fast.  If I have your suitcase, you have mine, right?

He hit the nail on the head.  I grimaced.

Eh.  This Tsunoda will finish me off someday!  How am I going to work with him for almost two years ?!  I need to ask Franz to keep the time we spend together as little as possible.  It's enough that before our first meeting he was screaming like a fool in the next room every time someone killed him in some stupid game.  Why is this kid so ... so ... so childish ?!  For God's sake!  We are in Formula 1, it requires seriousness!  This is not a sport for spoiled little crooks who cry because they cannot with dignity even lose a stupid computer game!  Formula 1 is the queen of motorsport!  Show her respect!  In addition, so few of us have a chance of getting all the way here, so we must do whatever is expected of us!  Yuki is too childish, too frivolous for such serious sport.

—Are you gonna give me my baggage?  — He argued, tapping a finger against my chest, driving me to a white fever.  — If not, then I won't give yours away either.

— Here you go, I don't need it, I can buy myself everything new.  And I'll throw yours out the window. — I grabbed his finger and pushed it away.  I didn't even want to look at him anymore, he was getting on my nerves.  He was overconfident, almost conceited.  The worst part was that my best friend Charles Leclerc said Yuki was cute and funny!

Ass and not cute!  He's the devil incarnate!  Pure evil!

Whoaoh!  I got even more nervous!

I ran away from that goddamn midget, hiding in my own room, where I slumped heavily on the bed, staring at the white ceiling above me.  However, I didn't foresee his cleverness, but rather that he would run to the complaint.  A few minutes later my phone rang.  When I looked at the display, I was surprised to discover that it was Franz, our immediate supervisor.  What could he want at 10:28 PM?

— Yes sir?  — I asked carefully, not being completely prepared for what I was going to hear.

—Pierre, what is this?  Why do I find out that you took Yuki's luggage and you don't want to give it back?  Boy, how old are you?  —He scolded me.

— Boss, please let me kill this dirty Tsunoda with my own hands.

— I refuse.  What a stupid joke!  Pierre, I thought you were wiser.  Why do you behave like that?  Yuki is a newbie, you have to help him settle in.  From tomorrow on, you will be spending more time together.  I don't want any tensions or misunderstandings in my team, understand?

— Yes, boss — I replied humbly, already imagining the hell ahead of me. Somehow I knew it'll end like this.

— Start by giving him the suitcase, we'll talk about the rest tomorrow — Franz cut off any discussion.  — And that no one will report to me anymore that you disturb the peace of other residents of the hotel.

— Okay, boss.  Sorry.

— Well, I think you will improve.  See you tomorrow.  Good night.

— Good night.

The call was disconnected before my boss could hear my "good night." I furiously tossed the phone on the bed.

What have I gotten myself into ?!

I took Tsunoda's suitcase and put it out into the hall without bothering to return his cosmetics. They were quite nice, I must admit, I loved espiecially his perfume.

I was so pissed off that I went to shower for the second time that night.  I was scrubbing my body so aggressively that at one point the skin on my stomach started to burn.  I scratched at this point, and then tiny wounds appeared.  Only this allowed me to regain full awareness and presence of mind.  I rinsed off the rest of the foam, left the booth, and looked directly at myself in the little mirror just above the sink.

* * *

The next day was not easier at all.  On the contrary.  Yuki clung to me like a turnip on a dog's tail.  Wherever I went, he followed me there.  In addition, he tried to be nice to me with all his strength.  As soon as my throat was dry, he immediately took a thermos of water out of his bag and handed it to me.

He reached the limit of my endurance during online conversations with fans, twice.  For starters, when he said that I was the best gift he could get.

— I don't think this was given to you —  I retorted, laughing.  It was hard for me to hide that this particular text made me laugh.  I noticed right away that he was hitting on me.  I was his type?  Cool, just wish he's in mine.  I was going to tell him that right after we met the fans, but then he blurted out that he wanted to come over to my house and sleep with me.

— You went too far, Tsunoda.  I'll never give you my address. — I said, but I don't know why, the tone of my voice was not what I expected, it was much lower.  I don't usually talk to anyone like that, not even to my friends.  I didn't even try to convince myself that this boy's confidence didn't impress me.

Maybe Charles was right?  Maybe I didn't want to admit it openly, but somewhere at the bottom of my mind, the thought was that I wouldn't mind Yuki hitting on me at all.  Charles might have been right too, maybe Tsunoda isn't that bad at all?

I just have to be careful not to succumb to his charm too quickly.

What do I even think ?!  I guess today's sun hurt me or someone gave me something suspicious to eat.

How could I even consider anything like this?

I was so engrossed in my thoughts as I left our garage that I tripped and ran right into our car, parked just before going to the pit lane.  The rear wing hit me painfully in the stomach.  Yuki, who had seen everything, immediately ran up and asked me carefully if I was fine and if I had hurt myself.  I replied no, again annoyed by his behavior.  He was too caring, I didn't need it.  I was a grown man who could take care of himself.  Really!  I just ...

I was just thinking, it's nothing!

However, the first training on the track showed me that it was SOMETHING and it was something serious.  I made stupid mistakes that had never happened to me before, earned a fine for exceeding the pit lane speed limit, rubbed the tire twice and ended up in the railing, severely damaging the front wing and suspension.  I was distracted.  It has never happened to me before.  I have always been able to separate my private life from what was happening on the track.  Yuki was the first to bring me to such a state, and in spite of everything else, this was what made me give him a chance.  But I'm not going to make it easy for him, I'll stick with him as long as possible, don't let him think I'm so easy.

In fact, I'm not too complicated.  I told Yuki that I only like women.  The truth is a bit different.  I said it to see his reaction, but also to protect myself.  The latter completely failed me.  For me, gender does not matter, what matters is character, personality, whether I have something in common with a given person or whether there is chemistry between us.  There was definitely something between Yuki and me, but I wanted him to try a little bit, to make him put in a little effort.  In addition, I was curious about his creativity: what will he do to get me?  From the very beginning, he showed me that I was not indifferent to him, he expressed it not only with words (yes, when he didn't curse, he could turn into a cute, innocent angel, nice and helpful), but also with gestures and deeds.

Yuki was sleepy, or so he said, and yet when I once asked him to get up a little earlier and make me something Japanese for breakfast, he did so and even seemed pleased.  I can't believe I have only known him for six months.  Sometimes I have the impression that I have known him all my life, that we grew up together.  We have a similar sense of humor, we both love to tease each other, and although there was no indication at first, it turned out that we are both incorrigible romantics.

That evening, Yuki made me watch some Boys Love story with him in my room.  He actually got in here without any announcements or invitations, spread a blanket and snacks on the floor in front of us, searched for the episode of the show on YouTube and put it on with English subtitles on his laptop.  My arguments that I do not like this kind of films have been useless.  Yuki ignored my statements on this subject.

— The main character is an idiot — I stated at one point, watching as the tall, handsome, black-haired Thai turns and walks away, leaving his lover heartbroken.  The other one was sitting on the bed, pretending to be unfazed, though deep down he wanted to howl with despair.  As the first one left the room, we could clearly see on the screen how depressed and hurt they were both of them.  — After all, he could have told him about everything, together they would surely find a different solution.

—You think so?  — Yuki asked mysteriously.  — Would you do that?  Would you tell me if someone told you to be silent and said it would be better for the person you love?

— Hmmm ... Yes, I would tell you.  If I were the main character, seeing how much the other one loves me, I would know that by moving away from him I would hurt him even more.  What is this logic anyway?  Forcing someone to marry a woman for whom he feels nothing, thereby breaking his own heart and that of the other?  What for?  After all, he is probably not such a moron not to understand that such a thing will hurt his beloved even more!

— Have you ever been in love?  — He asked me a strange question, staring at me shrewdly.  In his hand he clutched the part of the blanket on which we were sitting.  Suddenly I realized that he was very close, maybe even too close.  His eyes were level with my eyes only a few centimeters away.  It was enough for me to lean forward slightly and our noses would touch.  I looked to his lips, almost forgetting what he was asking me.  He noticed this and licked his lower lip as if to tempt me.  This seemingly trivial gesture brought me down to earth.

I pulled away from him, knocking my hand over the bowl of the leftover popcorn that had spilled around my crossed ankles.  That was another thing that hadn't happened to me before: I wasn't that clumsy.  Never.

— What?  What were you asking about?

— You're not listening to me.

— Sorry...

— Uh, whatever.  — He turned his back to me.  He was offended.  I leaned closer and blew against his hair as I watched it rise and fall.  —Hey!  What are you doing?!

— I'm soooooooooorry.  Will you forgive me?  You asked if I've ever been in love.  The answer is yes, I was.

— Anything more?

— Maybe someday ... I don't like to talk about it. It wasn't nice story. I promise one day I'll tell you.

—  Okay.

I was so happy that he said that. He didn't pushed me to tell something if I was not ready to tell this. Yuki, when he wasn't competing with me, was one big(although he is small) green flag. Maybe he knew that I can't be seriously mad at him. Charles was right, I'm starting to fall in love with this little Japanese cutie pie. Sometimes love comes in unexpected ways but it doesn't mean it's not real.

— So?  Will you forgive me?  — I don't know why I was so gentle with him, why I gave up so easily. I just wanted to see him smile. Charles would say, that I already lost the game. Yuki was just in front of me with little smirk on his face. He knew exactly what was he doing. And I didn't mind. After all I wanted to fall in love, I didn't see anything wrong with that. But on our world thigns were not that simple and I knew that it's still long way to go for us two. All what I also knew, was that I want to go this way with Yuki espiecially. With my little annoying cutie. I just didn't wanted to show him my feelings too early.

This day I left him little text message on the Instagram, knowing, that he will check it before going to bed.

Pierre: what if i want to ruin our friendship?