Chapter Text
They’re at the bar. Another race done, another race without a win.
George leans against the counter, watching Max across the room where he’s deep in conversation with Charles, gesturing with his drink like he’s arguing about something stupid.
“I’m surprised you’re still with him,” George says, nodding in Max’s direction.
Alex and Max have been together since Alex’s Red Bull days. Long enough that the paddock stopped gossiping about it years ago. Long enough that they lived together and Alex started looking for rings.
Alex snorts softly into his beer. “Jesus. You two really need to get over whatever this weird little feud is.”
“It’s not a feud.”
“Sure.” Alex bumps his shoulder. “He’s actually lovely, you know.”
“Yeah, alright.”
“I’m serious.” Alex grabs George’s arm, fingers curling around his bicep. “You’ve never seen how sweet he can be.”
George looks at him then, and immediately regrets it. Alex is too close. Close enough that George can feel the warmth coming off him, smell the alcohol on his breath. His cheeks are pink from the drinks, his eyes a little glassy around the edges.
“What exactly are you implying?” George asks quietly.
Alex just smiles lazily. And suddenly George is sixteen again.
Alex was the first boy he ever kissed.
They’d been at Alex’s house, wasting an entire evening playing FIFA instead of doing anything productive. George had already been losing badly, and Alex kept laughing every time he scored, all smug and bright and unbearably pretty about it.
Then Alex scored again. He threw his head back laughing and something in George’s brain completely short-circuited. One second they were yelling at each other over a stupid game, the next George had shoved him backwards into the couch. Alex looked shocked for maybe half a second and George kissed him. Clumsy and desperate and very, very sixteen. For a moment Alex just froze beneath him, hands gripping George’s wrists, and George had been convinced he’d completely ruined everything. Then Alex kissed him back.
“Oh, nothing.” Alex smiles into his drink. “Just that Max can be a very good boy when he wants to be.”
George nearly chokes. He stares down at his empty glass because he absolutely did not need that image in his head. Max on his knees, all sharp eyes and attitude suddenly obedient…yeah, no, terrible, awful.
“Bit hard to imagine,” George mutters. “He acts like a brat most of the time.”
Alex laughs, fingers still curled around George’s arm. “That’s part of the charm.”
George shakes his head and orders a new drink.
“You know,” Alex says quietly, “Max talks about you constantly.”
George snorts. “I seriously doubt that.”
“He does.” Alex glances toward Max again fondly “Mostly complaining, but still.”
George looks too. Max is smiling at something Charles says, relaxed in a way he never is around George. Something unpleasant twists low in his stomach.
“You don’t actually hate him,” Alex says.
“You’re drunk.”
“I am,” Alex agrees. “I’m also right.”
George becomes painfully aware of Alex’s hand still resting on his arm. The warmth of it. Alex’s eyes flick briefly to George’s mouth before meeting his gaze again and suddenly George is sixteen again, wanting something he has no idea how to ask for.
“Alex—”
And of course that’s the exact moment Max walks over.
“Hey, baby.” He leans in, kissing Alex quickly before sliding in at his side. One hand settles on Alex’s waist. “Hi, George.”
“We were just talking about you,” Alex says easily, now half-draped over Max while still holding onto George like he’s forgotten to let go.
“Really?” Max’s mouth curls into a smirk. “Hopefully no bulshit.”
George meets his eyes over the rim of his drink. “Debatable.”
“So,” Max says, “what exactly has Alex been telling you?”
“Nothing useful,” George mutters before Alex can answer.
Alex hums. “I was telling George you’re secretly sweet.”
Max makes a face like he’s been deeply insulted. “Ruin my reputation like that again and we’re breaking up.”
“You’d come crawling back within a week.”
“Three days,” Max corrects. “Maybe two if you wore that black jumper I like.”
George regrets staying. Especially because Alex just laughs softly, fond and warm in a way George rarely gets to see.
It hits harder than expected. Maybe because George remembers being sixteen and convinced Alex hung the moon. Maybe because part of him still does.
“Awful,” George says flatly when Max finally looks back at him. “Actually disgusting behavior. You should both be fined.”
“You’re jealous,” Alex says.
“I’m not jealous.”
“Mm.” Alex takes another sip of whiskey. “Very believable.”
George opens his mouth to argue and stops immediately because Max is looking at him now.
“You know,” Max says casually, “Alex told me you were his first kiss once.”
“It was one kiss,” George says tightly.
Alex hums. “Not technically.”
George turns so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash. “Alexander—”
Max’s eyes widened. “There were multiple kisses?”
Alex is visibly trying not to laugh.
“We were teenagers,” George says through gritted teeth. “Teenagers do stupid things.”
Alex says, casually, “You should come upstairs with us.”
George nearly chokes. Max, meanwhile, lights up.
“Yeah?” he says, turning toward Alex so fast it’s almost embarrassing. “Can he?”
George sets his glass down carefully. “I’m sorry, what exactly is happening right now?”
Alex looks unfairly calm about this. “We’re inviting you to our room.”
“Yes, I got that part,” George says. “I’m more confused about why.”
Alex rolls his eyes. “Because you have been glaring at Max all night like you want to either fight him or kiss him, and I’m curious which one it is.”
The walk to the is painfully short. Too short for George to figure out what the hell he’s doing.
Max and Alex are already pressed together by the time the elevator doors slide shut. Max’s hand settles on Alex’s hips, and Alex tilts his head up to kiss him like it’s second nature.
George tried to look anywhere else. Which would work better if Alex didn’t choose that exact moment to open his eyes and look straight at him over Max’s shoulder. George’s entire body goes hot.
Alex keeps kissing Max slowly, while holding George’s gaze the whole time. Max makes a soft sound against his mouth, completely oblivious, fingers tightening slightly where they rest against Alex’s hip.
George yanks at the collar of his shirt like he suddenly can’t breathe in it. Jesus Christ. The elevator feels way too small.
“You alright?” Max asks when the doors finally open.
George clears his throat too fast. “Yeah. Yeah, fine. Which room is yours?”
He steps out immediately, already heading down the hallway before either of them answer.
“George.” Alex’s voice stops him. “Wrong direction.”
George exhales sharply and spins around to find both of them still standing outside the elevator. Max is grinning now, infuriatingly amused, while Alex just watches him with that same unreadable look from downstairs.
“Oh, fuck off,” George mutters, turning and walking back toward them.
Max laughs under his breath. “Nervous?”
“I’m reconsidering murder, actually.”
“See?” Alex says lightly to Max as they start walking. “Told you he wanted to fight you.”
George flips them both off. Alex just laughs again softly, and for some reason that’s the thing that finally does George in. Not the flirting or Max looking at him like he’s already won something. It’s the sound of Alex laughing.
Because George remembers that sound from years ago. From too many late nights and hotel rooms and all the moments before everything got complicated. He remembers wanting him then too.
The hotel corridor is quiet except for the muffled sound of their footsteps against the carpet. Max walks slightly ahead now, digging his keycard out of his pocket while Alex stays beside George close enough for their shoulders to brush every few steps.
“You can still bail, you know,” Alex says quietly.
George glances at him. “Do you want me to?”
Alex’s mouth curves slowly. “No.”
Max reaches the door and looks back at them, card halfway to the lock.
“You two gonna stand out there making heart eyes at each other all night or are you coming in?”
The door shuts behind them and the energy in the room shifts immediately, like whatever tension was outside has just been carried in and left sitting on the bed.
Alex doesn’t hesitate. He flops backwards onto the mattress with a contented sigh. Max follows him down almost instantly, settling beside him, then shifting until his head is resting comfortably on Alex’s stomach.
George stays standing for a second, then he chooses the safest option available and sits on the edge of the bed, hands loosely clasped, suddenly very aware of what he’s doing with them. Alex tilts his head to look at him.
“Maxy,” he says, lightly tugging at Max’s hair.
Max hums, eyes half-closed. “Mm?”
Alex’s gaze flicks back to George. There’s something unreadable in it, but it isn’t subtle.
“Kiss George, hmm?” Alex says casually. “He looks a bit nervous.”
“I’m not nervous,” George says immediately, too quickly. Then, more carefully, “I just don’t really know what the situation is supposed to be here.”
Max opens one eye, squinting up at him. “What, you’ve never slept with a man before?”
George’s jaw tightens. “I have.”
Alex tugs sharply on Max’s hair again, just enough to make him wince.
“Behave,” Alex says softly.
Max rolls his eyes dramatically but settles again with a quiet huff, cheek pressed against Alex’s stomach.
“Yes, sir,” he says.
George stares. “Jesus Christ.”
Alex smiles faintly, fingers still threaded through Max’s hair. “See? Sweet.”
George can’t stop looking at the way Max relaxes under Alex’s touch. It’s disorienting. Max is sharp edges and stubbornness and endless arguments in the paddock, and yet here he is, practically melting because Alex scratched lightly at his scalp.
Max finally gets up with a sigh. He shuffles closer to George and takes George’s hand.
“You can relax, you know,” Max says. “We’re not going to pounce on you.”
Alex raises an eyebrow. “Speak for yourself.”
Max grins without looking away from George. “Alright. Alex might.”
George huffs out a short laugh, shaking his head. “You two are unbelievable.”
Max shakes his head, then finally leans in and kisses George.
It’s different from what George expected. Not aggressive, not challenging, none of the sharpness Max usually carries around. It’s just… soft. Sweet, almost careful.
George freezes for half a second before kissing him back.
Max’s hand slides up to the side of his neck, thumb brushing lightly against his jaw while he deepens the kiss slowly, giving George plenty of room to pull away if he wants to. Instead, George leans in closer without thinking about it. Behind them, the mattress shifts quietly.
“Aw,” Alex says softly. “You’re being nice.”
Max breaks the kiss just long enough to glare at him over George’s shoulder. “Alex.”
George laughs before he can stop himself, the sound surprised out of him. Max looks back at him immediately, eyes warm and a little smug, like he’s pleased he managed it.
“There he is,” Max murmurs.
George’s stomach twists unpleasantly at how easy that sounds. How natural. Like Max has known exactly how to get under his skin this entire time.
Alex reaches out then, fingers brushing lightly against the back of George’s neck. “Come here,” he says quietly.
George looks between them for a second, then finally gives in.
George lets Alex guide him down onto the bed until he’s stretched out beside him, head resting against the headboard. Max settles over his thighs, straddling them comfortably. The weight of him is distracting enough on its own.
“See how good he is?” Alex says, looking at George with quiet amusement. “Just one word and he’ll do everything you want.”
George swallows hard and nods before he can stop himself.
Alex’s hand slides slowly up George’s arm, fingers brushing over his collarbones before curling gently around his jaw. He tilts George’s face toward him with eyes half-lidded and warm. Then he kisses him.
It’s soft in exactly the way George remembers. Familiar enough to make something ache low in his chest. Alex still kisses like he’s trying to coax instead of take, slow and patient and devastatingly gentle about it. George melts into it before he can think better of it.
At the same time, Max shifts against him, rolling his hips experimentally where he’s sitting over George’s thighs. The pressure drags a startled gasp out of George straight into Alex’s mouth. Alex smiles against the kiss before slowly pulling back just enough to look at Max.
“That desperate already?” he asks lightly.
Max makes a soft, unhappy sound at that, then rolls his hips again with obvious intention. George’s head tips back against the headboard before he can help it, hands instinctively settling on Max’s waist to steady him.
“Oh,” Alex murmurs, sounding far too pleased by that reaction. “I think he likes you, Maxy.”
Max grins immediately, smug and bright. “Yeah?” he asks George. “You gonna admit it now?”
George shifts beneath him, hips lifting slightly. The movement pulls a soft sound from Max before he bites it back, eyes flicking down toward George with sudden intensity.
“Max will get very bratty soon if we don’t put a dick inside his hole,” Alex says lightly, patting Max’s thigh before turning his attention back to George. “Undress him.”
George’s pulse jumps at the words. Max watches him expectantly, lips parted just slightly, and George reaches out before he can think too hard about it. His fingers hook under the hem of Max’s shirt, brushing warm skin. Max lifts his arms without hesitation, making it easy for George to pull the fabric up and over his head.
The second the shirt’s gone, George forgets how to breathe properly for a moment.
George can’t help but stare at Max's pecs; they are so full. The faint flush spreading across Max’s skin only makes it worse.
“They are nice, right?” Alex asks knowingly.
His hand settles on Max’s left pec, squeezing gently before rolling the nipple between his fingers. Max’s entire body reacts to it. His hips twitch sharply, breath catching in a soft, helpless sound as his head dips forward. George’s breath stutters.
Without really meaning to, he lifts a hand and presses his palm carefully against Max’s chest. The skin there is warm, impossibly soft, and beneath it Max’s heartbeat is frantic. Fast enough that George can feel it hammering against his hand. Max looks down at him through lashes, cheeks pink now.
Alex watches the entire thing with lazy satisfaction, fingers drifting absentmindedly along George’s arm. “He’s always been self-conscious about them,” he says softly, nodding toward Max’s chest. “But I think they’re perfect.”
George swallows hard and lets his hands slide lower instead, down Max’s stomach to the waistband of his jeans. His fingers linger there for a second, feeling the way Max tenses in anticipation.
“Please,” Max says quietly before he can stop himself.
Alex laughs softly. “Look at that. Already begging.”
Max shoots him an embarrassed glare, but his hips shift impatiently anyway when George finally slips a hand beneath the waistband. The heat of him makes George inhale sharply. Max whines the second George’s hand closes around him, head tipping back.
“Oh,” Alex murmurs approvingly. “He likes you.”
George turns instinctively toward Alex after that, waiting without realizing it. Waiting for approval. Waiting for another instruction and suddenly he understands.
He understands why Max melts under Alex’s voice. Why does he look so eager every time Alex praises him. Because George wants it too. Wants that warm look in Alex’s eyes turned fully on him. Wants to be good for him.
Alex seems to notice the realization the exact second it hits. His hand curls around George’s jaw, thumb brushing slowly across his cheek before pulling him closer.
“Good boy,” Alex says softly.
Then he kisses him again. Slower this time, deep enough to make George dizzy, while Max shifts restlessly, still trapped beneath George’s hand and making soft, desperate sounds every time George tightens his grip just slightly.
“Come on, Max, get naked,” Alex says.
Max immediately shuffles off George’s lap, struggling with his jeans.
Alex places a hand low on George’s stomach and looks up at him. “Can I?”
George just nods, the words suddenly leaving him. Alex pulls down the zipper of George’s pants and takes George’s cock in his hand. George whines.
Max kneels at the foot of the bed, watching them with the lube in his hand. Alex gives him a couple of strokes before taking the head of George’s cock into his mouth.
“Alex,” George moans. He tries his best to stay still, but he can’t help rocking his hips up, accidentally gagging Alex. “Sorry.”
Alex pulls off, a string of spit and precum hanging from his lips. “It’s okay.”
Meanwhile, Max squirts a little lube onto his fingers and slowly circles the ring of muscle. He slips one finger inside, moaning at the feeling. George’s head snaps toward him. Max looks so good, a blush spreading from his face down to his chest, eyes closed as he works a second finger inside.
Alex’s hand tangles in Max’s hair, pulling him closer. Max whines at the rough treatment and falls face-first into George’s lap, with George’s dick practically in his face.
“Who told you that you could touch yourself?” Alex asks sternly, tugging at his hair again until tears form in Max’s eyes.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Max mumbles, nuzzling his face against George’s wet dick. “You two are so hot.”
Alex chuckles. “You poor thing.”
He rubs Max’s ass cheek softly, only to follow it with a sharp slap. George watches, letting out a shaky sigh.
“Come on.”
Alex pulls Max up, settling him into George’s lap and positioning himself behind them both. George’s dick rubs heavily against Max’s ass.
“Doesn’t he need a bit more—” George starts, his hand brushing over Max’s hip in a reassuring stroke.
Alex cuts him off with an amused look. “He’ll tell us if he does.”
Max nods quickly in agreement. George still looks uncertain, but Max reaches back and squeezes his hand.
“I’m okay,” he says softly.
Alex guides Max down onto George’s cock. George groans as he sinks deep inside Max. Max is so tight that George fears he might come right then and there.
Max starts to move slowly, riding the length of him with shaky, uncoordinated movements.
Every time Max sank down, George’s breath hitched, his hands gripping Max’s hips to steady them both.
The friction is intense. Max is slick with lube, but the sheer tightness of him makes every inch feel overwhelming.
“Slow down, Max,” George chokes out, his eyes squeezed shut. “You’re going to kill me.”
“It feels... so full,” Max whimpers, his head lolling back against Alex’s shoulder.
Alex presses a kiss to the side of his head. “I know. You’re okay, doll,” he murmurs.
Max immediately melts into the praise, and George suddenly understands exactly what Alex meant earlier. Sweet thing.
As George finds a rhythm, rocking up into the heat, Max begins to tremble. His thighs clench instinctively around George, trying to milk every inch of him. They are both teetering on the edge, but a single sharp look from Alex tells George to hold back.
“You’re both doing so well,” Alex whispers into the crook of Max’s neck, his voice a low vibration. “Such good boys.”
George lets out a pathetic, needy whine at the praise. Alex shifts, gently guiding Max down so that he’s lying flat against George’s chest, their bodies pressed tight. Max looks back at Alex, eyes wide and confused, but Alex just smiles.
“Keep going, George,” Alex urges.
George nods, his hands gripping Max’s hips as he drives back into him. Alex reaches for the lube, squirts some onto his fingers, and hooks them around Max’s ass, pulling the skin taut to watch the way George disappears inside him.
“Alex... please,” Max sobs.
“Not yet,” Alex murmurs.
He slides a finger alongside George’s cock, pressing deep into Max. Max’s entire body stutters, a broken sound escaping him as he buries his face in the crook of George’s neck, wailing softly against his skin.
“Alex, I can’t—I—” George pants, his voice cracking.
The sensation is overwhelming. Max is clenching around him, and it makes George’s vision blur. He feels like he’s about to bust.
“You can,” Alex counters, his gaze locking onto George’s. He leans in. “You’ve been doing so well. You don’t want to disappoint me, do you, love?”
George’s eyes flutter shut. He swallows hard, fighting the urge to come, breathing deeply through his nose as he gives a small nod.
“Good. Just a little bit more.”
As Alex slips another finger inside, Max finally breaks. His whole body gives a violent twitch. A choked cry leaves his throat as he comes, spilling across George’s stomach. His breath comes in shallow, sobbing hitches, his eyes rolling back as the aftershocks roll through him, leaving him limp and utterly spent.
“Alex,” George whines, his voice small and needy, his body still trembling.
“Come for me, Georgie.”
George lets out a long, shuddering sigh, his entire body tensing into a rigid line. He groans Max’s name into the skin of his shoulder, his hips surging forward one last time as he spills deep inside him, the orgasm so intense it feels like it drains the life out of him.
The room falls into silence, broken only by their ragged breathing. Alex pulls his fingers free and begins to stroke himself. After only a few strokes, he groans, coming heavily across the broad expanse of Max’s damp back.
Alex scoops a bit of it onto his fingers and holds them to George’s lips. George leans forward, eyes half closed, and licks them clean.
For a while, nobody says anything. The room is filled only with uneven breathing and the sound of them trying to recover. Alex finally breaks the silence with a soft laugh.
“Good boys.”
George closes his eyes.
Max is the first to fully come back to himself. He lifts his head, blinks a few times and goes soft in George’s arms, forehead dropping against his shoulder with a tired little exhale.
“Hey,” Alex says quietly, voice gentler now. “You okay?”
Max nods, but it’s lazy and unfocused. “Mm.”
George brushes a hand up and down his back in a calming manner. His own breathing is still uneven, but he stays where he is, not rushing to move.
Alex shifts off the bed and disappears for a moment into the bathroom. The sound of running water fills the silence. When he comes back, he’s holding a warm damp towel and two water bottles.
“Drink,” he says, handing one to George first.
George takes it gratefully, fingers brushing Alex’s for a second longer than necessary. “Thanks.”
Alex gives him a brief soft look, crouches beside Max and meticulously cleans him with the towel.
“Maxy,” he says, running a hand over Max’s spine. “Water.”
Max groans faintly but sits up enough to take it, letting Alex guide the bottle to his lips when his hands are too slow.
“There you go,” Alex murmurs. “Good boy.”
Max makes a small sound at that and leans back into George again.
George wipes a thumb gently at Max’s cheek without thinking. “You alright?”
Max nods again, slower this time. “Yeah. Just… tired.”
Alex helps Max shift off George’s lap first and helps him to lay down, then gestures for George to move too.
Max ends up in the middle of the bed, pulling a pillow under his head and exhales deeply. George hesitates for half a second before lying next to Max. Alex climbs in last, turning the lights down before he joins them. The mattress dips as he settles on the other side of Max, pressing himself against Max. His hand finds George's biceps again holding him down.
Max drifts first, eyes closing fully, breathing evening out between them. George stares at the ceiling for a moment longer, then glances sideways. Alex is already watching him.
“You good?” Alex asks again, quieter now.
George nods once. “Yeah. You?”
Alex’s mouth quirks faintly. “Yeah.”
Max shifts in his sleep, curling slightly closer to George. George adjusts the duvet, pulling it up over them both.
“Stay,” he says simply.
George wakes in the middle of the night. The room is dim, the kind of dark that still has shape to it. Max and Alex are curled into each other on the other side of the bed, tangled together without effort, breathing slow and even.
For a moment, George just watches them. Something tightens in his chest. He realizes how cold he feels.
Carefully, he sits up. No one moves. No one wakes. George swings his legs off the bed, pauses just long enough to look back once at Max tucked into Alex and then he stands.
He pulls on his clothes in silence, each movement slower than the last, like his body is resisting the decision even after his mind has already made it. When he reaches the door, he hesitates and looks back again. Just for a second and he leaves. The door softly clicks shut behind him.
When they wake up, George is already gone. The realization settles heavily in Alex’s stomach. Maybe yesterday was too much. Maybe inviting George upstairs had been a mistake from the start. Max stirs beside him.
“Hey, baby.”
He presses a sleepy kiss to Alex’s neck, then stretches with a groan. A second later, he frowns. He turns toward the other side of the bed, only to find nothing but crumpled sheets where George had fallen asleep the night before.
“Oh.”
“I guess he left in the middle of the night,” Alex says with a shrug, trying very hard not to sound hurt.
Max immediately rolls over with a soft whine and buries his face in the crook of Alex’s neck.
“Sore?” Alex asks, kissing the top of his hair.
“Mhm. A little.”
Alex wraps his arms around him, holding him tighter than necessary. Not because Max needs it, because Alex does.
In hindsight, getting George to come upstairs with them had been a stupid idea.
It wasn’t their first threesome, but it was the first time with someone who actually mattered. Someone they’d known for years. Someone who was a friend. And now Alex can’t stop wondering if he’d ruined that friendship for good.
With a sigh, he reaches for his phone on the bedside table.
you okay?
The message sends.
Max distracts him for a while after that, stealing lazy kisses and complaining dramatically every time he has to move. Eventually, though, reality catches up with them. They shower, pack, and head for the airport. Alex tries not to check his phone every five minutes. He mostly fails.
By the time they’re on the flight home, the message has finally been read and there’s still no response. Alex stares at the screen for a long moment before locking it and slipping the phone back into his pocket.
It’s a difficult thing to accept that sometimes silence is an answer too. Beside him, Max shifts closer and rests his head on Alex’s shoulder. Neither of them says anything.