Chapter Text
Lewis' POV
He was fuming. How many laps impeded in one weekend, he'd only qualified third, and fucking Max was on pole. Factor in the FIA leaving them to it in dangerous conditions and it was enough to want to scream.
He also wanted to get to his team and find out more about Lando. The wreck had looked pretty bad under the red flag and, while he was grateful to his guys for the update (and absolutely smitten with Seb for, well, everything), he wanted to double-check the young man was alright.
A car pulled up to P2 and he barely registered it, glancing over quickly while pulling at his gloves, and he froze as his brain caught up to his eyes. Georgie.
Everything in him was screaming to fly out of the car and kiss the man silly, and he knew he couldn't. But his boy in P2!
He meditatively removed his equipment, climbing out of his car and practically buzzing with excitement, leaving his helmet on to hide the grin that had broken across his face. George was climbing out now, too, being approached by practically everyone that had made it to Q3, and he chuckled to himself at the congratulations coming from every direction. Love so strong it nearly bowled him over swelled as he watched Seb embrace the younger man.
His impatience grew, awaiting his turn, and he finally walked up to him, offering a generic handshake and a "well done, mate, that's incredible," knowing they'd be able to celebrate properly later. He tried not to linger on his bitterness at having to wait.
George pulled his helmet off, then, and he gasped involuntarily as sky blue eyes shone like beacons. He had to force himself to walk to the scales because if he hung around to see his smile as the fireproofs came off, he'd out them both and he knew it.
Seb surreptitiously winked at him as he approached, but he noted the surly expression on his face immediately, cocking his head.
Oh. Lando.
Seb's POV
Thank fucking God for the buffer that was watching Georgie pull into P2, looking dazed and beside himself with excitement. It took every ounce of restraint that he had not to scoop his little one up and spin him in circles while he giggled, and he still almost failed.
He settled for a simple hug, a whispered, "I'm so proud of you," and a laugh as he watched Lewis climb out of his car. He doubted anyone else could tell, was looking close enough, but the man was taut like a bowstring with the effort of reacting in a way anyone watching would consider normal.
Lewis caught his eye, then, and he winked, but his mind had reverted to its previous train of thought as he waited by the scales. He was livid.
All he wanted to do was go find Mick, wrap him in his arms and kiss his forehead, and remind him that his time would come, that they all started out this way, and that his talent and perseverance would see him into a better ride soon enough.
But no. No, first he had to go deal with Michael fucking Masi. And then he had to text Lando.
As he shuffled through the garage he retrieved his phone, firing off a quick text to his husband.
Under The Sea (10:57:43): missing you very much, liebchen <3 i'll come find you as soon as i'm done with press stuff and masi
His phone buzzed with a nearly immediate response, and he smiled softly despite himself as he read it.
Mickelob Ultra (10:57:58): don't worry my love, go kick some butt for lando. dad said to tell you hi btw
The weight on his shoulders lifted a little as he turned toward the interviewer awaiting him.
George's POV
P2!
It was all he could think coherently. The rest of his mind was a swirl of emotion that seemed like it would never stop. He pumped his arms, screaming into the microphone, slammed his hands on his steering wheel, and still the intensity just continued to grow. He thought he could hear the crowd roaring even over the sound of his engine as he passed, waving to them.
He pulled up to the placard, climbing out as quickly as he could, and smiled as he was approached by Max and Daniel, felt his stomach swoop when Seb whispered to him that he was proud, and was profoundly grateful to his helmet for hiding the flush that erupted across his face at the praise.
And then Lewis was there, eyes blazing with pride so fiercely he could see it through the visor as they exchanged congratulations, and he ripped his own helmet off. He understood without having to think when Lewis immediately turned to head toward the scales, because the impulse to wrap himself around his husband and kiss him into next week was overpowering his senses.
He couldn't suppress his grin throughout the ensuing interview; chuckled when a steward reached out for his shoulder and reminded him that he had to get weighed before leaving; muttered his thanks when he was handed his phone.
What's All This Then (11:08:23): hey mate are you alright?
He paused, sipping at his water and hoping Lando had his phone on him, sighing in relief when he saw the notification.
Not Calrissian (11:11:44): yeah dude, my elbow hurts like a bitch but that's it
He slumped, only now becoming aware how worried he'd been, and sent a quick reply before heading toward his motorhome for a shower.
Mick's POV
"You were incredible, Georgie."
He cackled as his boyfriend jumped a mile in the air with a loud squeak, nearly hitting his head on the ceiling of the trailer. It had been worth hiding out in the bathroom just for that reaction.
"How many times are you going to pull this on me, you dick! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!"
"Mm, no. I'm trying to give you a blowjob."
George froze for just a second and then started stripping his suit and fireproofs off in a frenzy - or he was trying to. They were soaked through and his long limbs became entangled quickly. Mick pressed his lips together, trying his damnedest not to laugh, and failed when his boyfriend paused in his movements to level the bitchiest look imaginable at him.
He was still shaking with laughter as he moved forward, gently coaxing the sodden fabric off the other man's lanky frame, bending down to finish pulling it off his legs with a squelch; then, without so much as a by your leave, he sat up on his knees and wrapped his lips around Georgie's leaking tip.
The Brit let out a long, drawn-out moan, letting his head fall back against his shoulders. He responded by humming around his cock as he took him deeper, gripping the base and twisting his hand up to meet his lips in languid strokes, swirling his tongue around and enjoying the taste.
"Shouldn't I... Shower first, I'm... I'm sweaty..."
He pulled back deliberately, leaving just the very tip in his mouth, and shook his head back and forth as he pushed forward, bottoming out, and groaned, reaching down to touch himself through his sweats, as long fingers carded through his hair.
"Mick, fuck..."
He could tell, now that he had the chance, he would never get sick of fucking Georgie. Lewis' aggression and Seb's dominance really did it for him, but so did just worshipping the lithe body of the man now pulling his head back by the hair, thrusting slowly into his mouth as they made eye contact - which, oh. His dick twitched and he stuffed his hand down his pants, taking a firm grip but not moving, unsure of his role and if he was allowed to cum.
George's eyes had followed his movements and he bit his lip as he moaned, hips picking up speed so that Mick almost gagged. He looked up imploringly, begging with his eyes.
"Yeah, baby, you can cum. Pull your pants down, I need- need to see..."
He worked to relax his throat as the other man began thrusting deeper and more forcefully, words trailing off into a string of expletives as he hurriedly pushed his pants down, sighing as he was freed. He held his hand up, cock giving another twitch as George spit on his palm, and sighed as he gripped himself, trying to match their rhythms.
It was nearly overwhelming, the friction on his own length and the weight of his boyfriend on his tongue, mouth full of the taste of precum, and heat flashed through him as their eyes met again. He reminded himself he was allowed to make noise and moaned, letting himself be loud when George's reaction made it clear he approved.
George was pounding into his throat now, his own hand moving steadily over his cock, and George suddenly gasped, "Fuck, gonna... 'M close..."
He reached down with his other hand, massaging his balls, as cum splashed his throat, pulling back partway through so a rope of it landed across his face, and came with a harsh grunt of his own, panting as he came down.
George sank to his knees in the small space and he thought he was being pulled in for a hug. He gave a breathy laugh as he realized his face was being licked clean.
"Kinky fucker."
"You love it."
He paused, looking up meaningfully, and captured his best friend and boyfriend's lips briefly.
"Yeah. Yeah, I do."