Work Text:
The video kept looping, George hated every second of it but he couldn’t make himself stop watching. His fingers didn’t seem to obey his mind’s command to just shut it down and go do something more productive with his time, so he was stuck there, gripping his phone ever tighter, watching Lewis joke around with Charles. He couldn’t get over Lewis’ smirk at the camera as he said, “Still looking younger than you,” followed by Charles’ chuckle and low “Yes, you are,” and the way Lewis turned around smiling and then touched Charles’ so warmly across the chest, in a gesture that spoke of a rapport that George had never managed to develop with him.
They got along, Lewis was nice to him, but in the back of George’s head lay the lingering suspicion that he didn’t like him, not really, not ever. Perhaps he had grown fond of George, but the way someone does of an acquaintances’ overexcited pet. George had always tried to act casual and cool around Lewis’; overly aware of the circulating photos of him as a teen asking Lewis for an autograph on a copy of his biography. But he suspected that his eagerness bled through, like a bad scent, a lingering sliminess that coated George’s fingers when he reached for Lewis’ in a one-armed hug. Lewis was particular about cleanliness, no wonder George put him off.
“How long are you going to keep watching that?”
Kimi’s voice startled George into almost dropping his phone. He shut off the screen and turned to Kimi with a smile. “I told you to stop looking over my shoulder. It’s very annoying, not to mention impolite.”
Kimi ignored him, his gaze was still fixed on the screen as if he were trying to work out something. “You miss Lewis?”
George stiffened. “I suppose. We were teammates for a long time.”
Kimi’s grin widened until his little fangs showed. “That’s funny. I asked him about his favourite teammates, he said they all had their qualities and flaws, and he appreciated how they all pushed him, in different ways, but that the one he liked best was Valtteri.”
George was well aware of that, he shot Kimi an indulgent smile, if he thought he was going to hurt him with common knowledge he would have to try harder. “Everyone knows that.”
Kimi poked his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “He had something to say about everyone, even Heikki, even Charles, but I had to ask him ‘What about George’?”
George got up from his bench, ignoring Kimi’s delighted grin. “There’s data we should be looking at instead of standing here gossiping. I know you’re still a rookie, but testing ahead of a new regulation period is very important, every lap counts.”
He could feel Kimi’s eyes on the back of his neck as he followed him through the hallways and into the engineering room. “What did you say about the 2022 car? I just saw a video of it, you said it ‘looked fast’.” Kimi giggled to himself. “Let’s hope you think this one looks slow, no?”
George did his best to ignore Kimi’s mockery, but his blunt nails dug crescent marks on the inside of his palms from how tightly he clenched his fists.
---
The first day of testing went great, better than expected. Kimi did well but George did amazing, just as he’d hoped. Although a voice at the back of his head reminded him not to get too comfortable. Rosberg often went faster than Lewis in testing, and often in qualifying, but on the race sunday the better driver won. Not that Kimi was any Lewis, now the only thing he could hope to be was a Vettel or a Verstappen since he hadn’t won a race in his rookie year, let alone almost won the championship – that ship had sailed for him, as it hadn’t even seen the water for George, stuck in a Williams. That almost softened the blow that too much time had passed for him to ever be a Vettel or a Verstappen. He’d have to be George Russell, and perhaps that would be good enough, perhaps it could even be great.
Everything looked good, the team was all smiles, they had averted disaster and were putting on some great laps, getting solid data from their own cars and the clients’. Toto patted him on the back, “It will be different, you’ll see, it will be a return to form.” George wanted to believe him, he needed to. Toto’s warmth was conditional to performance, and George was determined to have a blistering start to the season in Melbourne and good luck to anyone trying to catch him.
Day two looked even better, more teams on track and Mercedes was still pulling ahead. Of course now everyone wanted to know how the competition was doing too. The engineers looked at their own data and whatever they could glimpse of the other team’s setups through observing them on track. “Ferrari looks solid too, but then they always look good in testing,” someone said, almost offhandedly.
The mention of Ferrari sent a shiver down George’s spine. He hadn’t seen Lewis all day. Other drivers moved around, went in and out of common areas and sometimes had meals together, but Lewis and Charles were sequestered with the Ferrari crew. He remembered the video, Lewis’ boyish grin, the mean flirting that George had watched him use on others but never on him.
“I’m going to my lounge for a power nap,” George announced, to the room at large, getting up from his bench at the engineer station.
Toto shot him a distracted thumbs up over the top of the two monitors in front of him, but no one else seemed to have heard him.
The driver’s lounge wasn’t a big room, and there weren’t many amenities, not when compared to a motorhome, but it had a door with a lock, a pull out sofa, blinds, and George’s laptop. George loved numbers, he loved data, and he loved technology, but that last part he kept well-hidden, it was better if no one ever found out just how good he was around a computer. He unlocked the laptop via the biometry lock, and then accessed the program he was looking for, hidden behind two other layers of security.
Just before the end of the 2024 season, George had managed to install a sophisticated and nearly impossible to trace exploit that allowed him to stream sound and video through Lewis’ phone directly to his laptop. He had to be careful about how he used it, of course, recording constantly would drain the phone’s battery so fast that Lewis would probably just replace it with a new one. So George had to choose his timing right if he wanted to see anything worthwhile at all.
He was smart about it, he knew Lewis better than Lewis himself probably realized. And more than once he’d open up the video stream on his laptop to come face-to-face with Lewis staring dazedly up at the screen, bottom lip caught between this teeth while he jerked off. It was a shame he was always wearing headphones and George couldn’t hear the sound of whatever he was watching. On the other hand, all the better for him to pick out Lewis’ quiet moans. Sometimes, he jerked off with him, imagining that Lewis’ would make those same faces when George finally got to fuck him, except he would be louder, George would make him louder. Often, though, he just watched, committing the sight to memory, cataloging all of Lewis’ expressions, filing them away in the folders of his mind where he had arranged all of Lewis’ smiles, sighs, frowns, grins and pouts.
When he saw something particularly striking he couldn’t resist taking a screenshot, although he avoided doing it, because he felt it violated Lewis’ privacy. Everything else he did was no worse than taking a peek through an open window, it wasn’t his fault Lewis didn’t know the window was there.
This time though, the front camera revealed darkness except for an odd beam of light, it seemed the phone had been propped at an angle. There was ambient noise, George could pick out Lewis’ voice in the background. He switched to the main cameras, the space wasn’t familiar but it could only be the inside of Lewis’ Ferrari motorhome, judging by the red-accented décor.
And Charles, Charles was a dead giveaway too.
George sat up straight on the sofa and steepled his fingers in front of his nose. They were sitting with their heads close together, watching something on Charles’ phone. There wasn’t anything to it, except for the way Charles’ eyes would glance up from the video to look at Lewis instead, gauging his reaction. George knew all about observing Lewis, he had been doing it since he was a child watching him drive for Mclaren. The walls of his childhood room had been covered with posters of Lewis and clippings of his interviews. When his parents sold the house George took everything down and stored it in folders, now kept locked away in a file cabinet in his study. Carmen joked that that was where he kept his porn magazines, like an old man. She was half right.
When Lewis turned to tell Charles something about the video, he noticed how close they were sitting and tried to put some distance between them, but Charles followed him, his arm crawling over the back of the sofa.
Lewis wasn’t a fool, he tilted his head inquisitively and shot Charles a leading look from beneath the fan of his lashes. George swallowed dryly, and slid the mic volume settings all the way up until he could make out their words clearly.
“What are you doing, Charles?” Lewis asked, when Charles’ other hand crawled up over his knee.
“I think you can tell, no?” He squeezed the inside of Lewis’ thigh.
Bold. Lewis’ grin widened, so he liked bold. George knew that in general, but a sexual context was a variable he hadn’t had the chance to examine.
“You think this is a good idea? Ahead of the season?” He was demurring, but doing nothing to get Charles’ hand away from his crotch.
“No, but I think it would be a bad idea in the middle of the season too.” He leaned in towards Lewis’ bringing their faces even closer together. “So I think we get started now, anyway.”
Lewis turned his face away from Charles. “You’re just excited about the new car.” It was a halfhearted rejection, especially because George could see Lewis’ pleased smile. He didn’t know why he was doing this. Did he like playing games? Was he testing how much Charles wanted him? That made sense, Lewis wasn’t the type to entertain passing fancies. George reckoned that if Charles agreed with him and backed off Lewis would never give him a similar chance again.
But Charles made the right call, he chased after Lewis’ lips and pushed him down onto the sofa, trapping him beneath his body. “I can be excited about two things.”
Lewis pulled Charles down by the back of the neck and returned the kiss with abandon, as he had probably wanted to do from the start. He just needed to make sure first that Charles was worth his time. George licked his lips, thrilled as always at having understood another part of Lewis. He felt like he should be taking notes, but this one was easy to remember: don’t waste Lewis’ time. George had a tendency to ramble, maybe that bothered Lewis, Charles didn’t ramble, something that not being a native English speaker gave him an advantage on, perhaps. He talked in circles, though, but maybe that didn’t bother Lewis, maybe he thought it was cute that Charles could come off as dumb. A point against George, that.
This was a learning opportunity. There was no point in being upset that Charles’ hands were roaming underneath Lewis’ shirt feeling up the planes of his abdomen and squeezing his tits. There was no point in being disappointed that someone else had gotten something George wanted before him, he was used to that. Charles’ wasn’t Lewis’ first anything either, so what did it matter? George could still be the best, he could still be the last.
Charles’ got Lewis’ pants down his legs one-handed. Lewis didn’t seem interested in doing much of anything but letting himself be kissed and groped, he made it easy, spreading his legs and trailing kisses to the edge of Charles’ ear where he whispered something George couldn’t make out, but he didn’t help, and he didn’t try to undress Charles. He gazed up at him from beneath heavy lids while Charles took off his own clothes, but didn’t touch him. Charles’ didn’t care, he was more than happy to do it all, his hands were everywhere, he slid Lewis’ boxers down his hips with a groan, squeezing two handfuls of ass. He fell face-first between Lewis’ legs, nuzzling his cock, from what George could see with Lewis’ raised leg in the way.
Lewis’ tangled his fingers into Charles’ hair indulgently. “Eager aren’t you?” There was a teasing edge to his tone, he liked that Charles was so obviously hot for him.
“I love that you have such a big cock and don’t do anything with it,” Charles said, grinning foolishly.
George tensed, he was sure that was going to upset Lewis. Why make a smartarsed comment instead of just enjoying his good luck? This stupid guy was about the get a kick in the face.
“It’s not for me to do anything, it’s for you to suck and look at while you fuck me.” Lewis pushed Charles’ face down, forcing him to take his cock into his mouth. “And to say ‘thank you’ afterwards.”
Charles made a production of it, George could hear the sound of him slobbering all over Lewis like a dog. It was inelegant and messy, and George would never do it that way, but Lewis seemed to be enjoying himself. His leg dropped to the side, giving George a good look at Charles sucking his cock, and of Lewis’ abdominal muscles twitching. Lewis eyes were closed, bottom lip caught between his teeth, while his hand remained buried in Charles’ hair, guiding his movements.
George wondered if Lewis would be like that with him as well, bossy, telling him what to do to pleasure him, uncaring of George’s own pleasure, sure that getting to touch him, getting to fuck him, was reward enough. He hoped so, although he thought he would surprise Lewis by doing exactly what he liked before he could demand it of him. He would think George could read his mind, with how good he’d make it.
A breathless inhale made George realize that Charles was now fucking Lewis with his fingers while sucking his cock. Very coordinated. He supposed Charles had his qualities, despite the lackluster record for someone in a top team. George had 5 wins with Mercedes in 4 years in a subpar car. Charles had 8 in 7 with Ferrari, albeit his car was good enough for second place in the standings in 2022. Maybe they were tied, George was feeling generous.
“Enough,” Lewis said, pushing Charles away with the back of his wrist against his forehead, as if he were an eager puppy trying to hump his leg. “Do you have a condom?”
Charles eyes widened. “No, where would I put it?” He looked around the motorhome, chewing his bottom lip. “Don’t you have any?”
“No, I never do.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You want to fuck me, you bring the condoms.”
Charles smiled, almost guilelessly, and kissed the inside of Lewis’ knee before saying, “I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”
It was a lie, but one Lewis wanted to believe. He reeled Charles in by the arm and pulled him on top of his chest. “Alright, but if you make a mess I expect you to clean it up.”
Charles face split in a delighted grin, he cupped Lewis’ jaw, looking down into his eyes as he said, “Of course, it will be my pleasure,” before kissing him.
George wouldn’t have played those kinds of games with Lewis. He saw no point in it. If Lewis wanted him to wear a condom he would, and if he changed his mind halfway through and wanted it bare then George would do that too. But Lewis was smiling into the kisses, and pinching Charles’ sides until he yelped and batted his hand away with a giggle. George didn’t get it, he was vaguely aroused from watching Lewis be aroused, but nothing else about the situation excited him. Which was to be expected, he wasn’t a voyeur, but he was supposed to learn from this, and he just couldn’t fathom what a man like Lewis saw in Leclerc.
“Spit, my love,” Charles said, holding his palm beneath Lewis’ chin.
Lewis rolled his eyes at Charles, which reassured George that ‘my love’ had been facetious, and let a thick string of saliva drip down onto Charles’ hand, who then added his own to it albeit less erotically; in a hurry to slick up his cock and crawl between Lewis’ thighs.
Honestly, George had expected him to be a little more refined about the whole thing. Instead he was eager to the point of clumsiness, shoving his cock so hard into Lewis that he made him flinch, and then folding him in half the moment he bottomed out to hammer away at qualifying pace, no build up whatsoever.
“I’m going to come,” Charles announced after little more than two minutes of fucking.
Lewis’ eyes widened in outrage. “You better find a way to stay hard and keep fucking me,” he said, squeezing a hand between their abdomens to touch his cock, but Charles grabbed his wrist and pinned it down against the sofa.
“That’s not a problem for me.” He smirked, and thrust down into Lewis at an angle that had him moaning high and sweet. “You’ve been a cocktease for a whole season, I won’t be done with you so fast.”
The vulgarity was unexpected, George didn’t think Charles had it in him, but he was full of surprises, and Lewis was full of him. He hissed out in delight when Charles’ cock got him just right, fingers squeezing and releasing on the cushions in the rhythm of the heavy, snapping thrusts that preceded Charles’ orgasm.
He came with a string of french curses, from which George understood only ‘putain’. Lewis groaned in displeasure when Charles slowed down and went still. “Shh, shhh, I just want to see,” Charles said, pulling out his cock to watch cum trickle out of Lewis’ hole. “I wish I could take a photo, or record a video.” He pushed his cockhead against Lewis’ wet rim, watching it stretch to accommodate him and overflow around his length.
“The memory will have to do,” Lewis’ said, wrapping one leg around Charles’ waist to pull him back inside.
“I guess we can keep doing it so it’s always fresh in my mind, no?”
“Depends on how the season goes,” Lewis said, raising his leg up from Charles waist and draping it over his shoulder. He was very flexible, it was always a struggle for George not to stare when Lewis did his stretches, now he could look his fill but there was someone else there, and enjoying himself far more than George.
Whatever Charles believed, he was fucking Lewis like it was his only chance, his fingers dug bloodless imprints on the meat of Lewis’ thighs, on his tits, on his waist and wherever else his hands could reach. Lewis encouraged him, canting his hips up to chase after the most brutal thrusts and taunting Charles to give it to him harder, faster, put his back into it. He was as demanding as George had ever seen him, stripped of any politeness, almost bratty in his insistence to have it his way. George’s cock was leaking steadily into his underwear but he didn’t do anything about it. He couldn’t ignore the sound of Charles’ moans and grunts or the breathless, dazed, way Lewis’ called his name when he was feeling too good to hold back, so he ignored his cock instead.
Charles came once more before Lewis did. He was close, though, a thin film of sweat made the skin of his chest and abdomen glisten. George’s mouth watered, but Charles only ran his.
“Imagine I could get you pregnant,” Charles said, giggling, totally out of it. “There’s cum enough for triplets.”
“Don’t think that’s how it works,” Lewis said, indulgent despite the sarcasm. He ran a hand over Charles’ hairy thigh in an attempt to get him to focus. “Don’t stop now, though.”
“No way, I want to watch you come on my cock.”
George snorted at the nerve of him, but was forced to watch as Charles did just that, pulling Lewis’ ass onto his lap and bouncing him until he was biting back moans and then shooting up ropes of cum all over the tattoos on his chest.
They caught their breath for a moment, Charles was red all down his chest as if he’d been running. Lewis radiated contentment, gaze half-lidded and placid. Charles leaned down and kissed him, bumping their noses and foreheads together like a pair of affectionate cats. “Don’t fall asleep yet, I still have to clean you up.”
Lewis hummed, eyelashes fluttering with each breath, he was so relaxed he really might fall asleep at any moment. “No promises,” he said, but spread his legs, making room for Charles between them.
Charles laid down on his stomach, gripping Lewis’ legs beneath the knee and making himself comfortable. Lewis hissed at the first touch of Charles’ tongue over his sensitive hole, but Charles kept at it with the fastidiousness of a cat until he settled, more languid than aroused. George watched Lewis’ serene expression for a while, his features made even softer at rest, and regretted that he had never managed to make Lewis that relaxed in his presence. He cut off the stream when the feeling of intruding on something that wasn’t meant for his eyes got too much even for him.
---
No one commented on his absence when he rejoined the team, although Kimi shot him an inquisitive look that George returned with a flat one of his own. He’d been napping, there was nothing to say. The day progressed without issue, everyone was excited about where they were at, the season ahead looked promising on all fronts. George was excited too, just morose, trying to make up his mind about what he was feeling after watching Charles and Lewis.
Kimi caught up to him just as he was leaving the garage, his backpack slung over a shoulder as if he were still a high school student. “You didn’t ask me what Lewis said about you.”
“Uh?”
“When I asked him ‘What about George?’ Don’t you want to know what he said?”
Not really, but Kimi wouldn’t drop the issue, so he sighed and asked, “What did he say?”
“He said: “What about him?” Kimi burst into laughter like it was the most hilarious thing he had ever heard in his life.
George tightened his pace and left him to his amusement. He didn’t think Kimi would have many other opportunities to laugh this season, so let him enjoy it while he could. He had bigger things on his mind.