Alex is first in line to the throne, George is still a Formula 1 driver.
ao3
[my contribution to the f1 playlist fic exchange organised by @toastandvegemite]
[for @onadarklingplain 💗 Kay, thank you so much for the prompt! and thank you for writing me the softest fluffiest funniest Galex fanfiction ever. I think it finally healed me more than two years post Sakhir '20.]
They get to Vegas and George is buzzing. It’s a mixture of the energy of this city, the way that everyone on the strip is excited to see them, and having his two favourite people in the world right there with him.
Lewis is in good spirits, which is great for George because when Lewis is on, he’s a force to be reckoned with and he pays attention to George and tells him how good he’s doing and George would get on his knees for this man any day.
Metaphorically of course because there’s also Alex. George really wants to please Lewis, wants to hear that he’s doing a good job, wants to win for him. But with Alex, none of that matters.
Alex loves him because he’s George, not because he’s George Russell, F3 champion, F2 champion, and Mercedes driver. George doesn’t love Alex because he’s Alexander Albon, Williams Driver.
George thinks that he or Alex could quit F1 one day and never go back and it wouldn’t change anything between them. And he’s so fucking grateful for that.
They get to Vegas and Alex is not buzzing. He’s excited to be in Vegas but the whole thing feels a little much. The people, the press— he complains about doing media but really it just fills him with a horrible wave of anxiety where he can’t breathe. The whole thing feels a little overrated to him.
It doesn’t help that Lewis is here. He’s gotten over what happened in 2020, forgiven Lewis for the collisions that stole his first career wins from under his nose. But he’s still not really sure how Lewis feels about him and every interaction is so awkward and yeah, Alex’s social anxiety finds Lewis absolutely terrifying.
It also doesn’t help that George loves Lewis. Not in the way that he loves Alex. He loves Alex like breathing. He loves Alex like a cup of coffee in the morning in bed. He loves Lewis like the devoted teammate that he is, eager to learn and live and grow under Lewis’ shadow.
And Alex really is happy that George has a good teammate. He knows what it’s like to be the second driver and feel absolutely shitty showing up to the track each weekend. He’s glad George doesn’t have to experience it, but also would like to be here with just George.
They all get to do some press together, which is good, the solid press of George’s body against Alex’s side doing wonders to calm his panic. But Alex also knows that he’s really not the people everyone is here to see, so he gets to stand off to the side and watch Lewis and George woo the crowd.
They take like a bazillion photos of George and Lewis together and Alex isn’t jealous. He’s not jealous because he doesn’t want to be up there, he’s content being out of the spotlight. But he doesn’t miss the way George looks at Lewis, like he hangs the sun, like he’s Adonis personified.
He’s not blind, Alex knows that the fans think George and Lewis are dating. He knows why they think that. If he and George hadn’t been together before he went to Mercedes, Alex probably would have thought the same thing.
Strong arms wrap around Alex’s middle. He’s standing behind the stage, watching Lewis, Checo, and George entertain. Okay, maybe not watching, maybe just trying to stay calm and get away from the insane atmosphere. He leans back against George, nestling into his boyfriend’s neck.
“Hi baby,” George presses his lips against the top of Alex’s head, “You okay?”
“Fine,” Alex mumbles.
He turns around into George’s embrace, shoving his hands up and under George’s insane amount of layers. George is wearing a winter coat even though it’s baking hot in Vegas.
“It gets cold in the desert at night”, George had argued before they’d left the hotel.
“You’ve never been to the desert, George!”
“Yeah, that’s why I have to have a coat.”
Alex doesn’t know if he’s just wearing it out of spite, but the skin beneath his clothing is cool and soft and it grounds Alex in a way that he hasn’t felt all weekend.
“Better?” George murmurs.
“A bit,” Alex concedes.
“Do you want me to take you back to the hotel?” George asks, tilting Alex’s head up to meet his eyes.
“No, that’s stupid.” Alex shakes his head, watching as Lewis walks toward the pair of them.
“It’s not, if you want to go back.”
“I don’t want to be a burden.”
“You’re not-”
“Hi,” Lewis interrupts and George takes a step back from Alex (ouch) and turns to face Lewis.
“Hi, Lew!” George beams at him.
Lewis gives Alex one of his beautiful smiles and then turns to talk to George about something that Toto had called about earlier.
Alex crosses his arms, looking around for somewhere else to be, but he can’t find anyone else he knows and the towering, unfamiliar city makes him uneasy.
“Right, Alex?” Alex’s head snaps back around to the conversation where Lewis is looking at him expectedly.
And right there, Alex gets it. The feeling of all of Lewis’ attention turned towards him, the soft, kind eyes meeting his.
“Oh, uh- right.” Alex agrees, blushing slightly.
“Told you, Georgie,” Lewis beams, wrapping an arm around George and giving him a blinding smile.
Alex’s skin prickles at that and he reaches for his phone to give himself something to do other than watch his boyfriend and his teammate do whatever this is. George wraps his arm around Lewis’ shoulder, mimicking the older man’s movement, and the F1 media pounce, snapping picture after picture.
Alex’s face must show some discomfort because George untangles himself from the commotion and makes a beeline for Alex’s side.
“Come on,” He pulls Alex into his side and starts to head towards the strip. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”
“Whatever,” Alex grumbles, pouting slightly.
“Alex,” George stops walking, putting his hands on Alex’s shoulders to stop him as well.
“George,” Alex stares at him, challenging whatever George is about to say.
“You’re cute when you’re jealous.” George pecks him on the cheek.
“Asshole,” Alex flicks him in the head and George pulls away, mock wounded.
They keep walking towards the hotel, hands not quite touching, comfortable silence sweeping over them.
“I’m sorry we haven’t been able to spend much time together,” George sighs.
“It’s okay,” Alex squeezes George’s pinky reassuringly.
“I wish it was me and you on the stage.”
“No, you don’t.” Alex shakes his head.
“I do!” George insists. Alex can’t see his eyes behind the sunglasses George is wearing but he knows he’s sincere. George is always sincere. It drives Alex nuts sometimes.
“I would probably spontaneously combust if I was on that stage,” Alex admits.
“True,” George laughs. “Fine, then I want you on that stage with me metaphorically.”
“Me too,” Alex agrees, giving him a soft smile. “But after tonight, it’s just me and you for a few days before Brazil.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” George pulls him to the side and kisses him soundly.
He leaves Alex at the doors to the hotel and Alex watches him go with pride swelling in his chest. George is his. And neither of them would have it any other way.
Another randomized prompt list pick because I really am feeling geolex lately. Hope you enjoyed!
