#galewis

[tyremanagementsupremacy]

shipname poll for alex/george/lewis

Gewlex

Galewis

Gewislex

Galexis

Gewilex

Other / OP how could you forget..?

Voting ended onJul 1, 2025

Pro and anti shipname propaganda is welcome, but let's all stay polite

[mars-mystic]

Well, that election sucked 🤢🤮 Here’s the intro of a George/Alex/Lewis fic I’m never gonna write

Meeting Lewis in the elevator was only a minor flaw in Alex’s plan. He kept to his own side, keeping his hands clasped carefully in front of him, not giving away his intentions. His mind wandered, thinking about George standing on the top step of the podium, smiling down at him. Meeting him between hospitalities, whispering a room number into his ear. George waiting for him, horny and alone, spread out on his mattress, wearing nothing but his sweaty fireproofs. He took a deep breath, refocusing his attention on the elevator number, slowly ticking upwards. Couldn’t get too excited yet, not while Lewis was still watching him.

“Done for the day?” Lewis asked, leaning casually against the back wall.

“Yeah, just heading back to my room,” Alex lied. He wasn’t even staying in this hotel, but Lewis didn’t need to know that.

“Me too,” Lewis said.

The elevator stopped on the sixteenth floor, chiming brightly, announcing his exit. He stepped off, Lewis following immediately behind him. Shit. Play it cool Albon. Lewis would go to his room, and Alex could go to his. ‘His’.

He counted the numbers, one, two, three, carefully disregarding Lewis right behind him. He stopped outside room 1609, was about to knock, when he realized that Lewis had stopped right behind him. Was staring right at him.

“This isn’t your room,” he said carefully, his eyes locked on Alex. Alex realized what was going on, understanding dawning on him slowly. He gave Lewis a shit eating grin.

“This isn’t your room either.”

“No, it isn’t,” Lewis confirmed with an incline of the head. He was smiling too, his tongue darting out across his lips. He met Alex’s eyes, inclining his head towards the closed door. “So. What should we do with him?”

“Oh, he’s gonna get what he asked for,” Alex grinned. “If you’re up for it.”

“Definitely,” Lewis smiled back. Then he turned, knocking sharply in the door. Three times.

George opened the door, a tired smile on his face. He’d changed out of his race suit, his body wrapped only in a short robe. “Alex- Lewis-“ he greeted them hesitantly, looking between them. “What a surprise.”

“George Russell you scheming slut,” Alex said, pushing past him into the room, tracing his finger down the sliver of skin exposed on his chest as he went. “You did this on purpose.”