Chapter Text
George exits the airport in Los Angeles and the warm, humid air curls around him. He feels better already, being here, knowing Lewis is only a few miles away rather than 3,000.
His phone buzzes, connecting to the network and bringing him a few messages. A couple from Toto, reassuring George that it was okay for him to miss a couple of factory days and to call him when he gets to LA because he’s worried. There’s one from Lando, some article he found. And finally, one from Lewis.
Trapped in meetings :/ sent you a car. see you in a few xo
And yeah that’s not… optimal. He was hoping to step off of the plane into Lewis’ arms. But he’s been waiting 13 hours, a few more won’t hurt.
The driver makes small talk on the way to the hotel, which is also not optimal. But it’s all worth it when he walks into the hotel lobby and is met with Lewis’ beaming smile. He takes a moment to just stare, taking in the sight of the man he loves, only a few feet away.
Lewis looks good, he always does when he’s in LA and when he’s working on something that he’s really passionate about. It’s one of the many things that George loves about him. He’s wearing a long-sleeve from his Japanese merch collection and shorts, very casual for typical Lewis standards. He’s got his hands in his pockets, and George can tell from the way his arm muscles strain that he’s doing everything he can to not touch George in public.
George thanks the driver before rushing through the hotel lobby, coming to stand next to his partner. Lewis looks up at him, grinning.
“Fancy seeing you here, Mr. Hamilton.” George teases, bumping his shoulder into Lewis’.
“So random, Mr. Russell.” Lewis laughs, detangling George’s Mercedes brand backpack from his shoulders.
“You don’t have to-”
“Hush.” Lewis pats his side. “Follow me.”
The room key slides into the lock, and then they’re inside the hotel room and George is hit with a wave of comfort. Everything here just screams Lewis. He’s got clothes strewn on the floor, a suitcase pushed up against the window. There’s a bag from a designer store that George vaguely recognizes, a remote control car- the one from Tokyo- parked under the desk. Lewis’ laptop is open on the desk, scribbled notes and haphazard doodles in the margins of the notebook next to it. And most importantly, most comfortingly, it smells like Lewis. George has been getting by with burying his head into Lewis’ sweaters and pillow, trying to get some form of comfort. But it’s nothing like this. He’s really here.
“Darling?” Lewis prompts, and George realizes that he’s missed whatever Lewis said before.
“Sorry, I’m just-” George lets his hands hang at his side, pulls at his shirt in reflex to calm his thoughts.
“I just asked if you wanted me to put this somewhere,” Lewis gives him a soft smile, pointing to the backpack he’s since set on the ground, “But that can wait. Come here.”
He opens his arms and George all but falls into them. Lewis is warm and solid and he feels like home. George hasn’t felt at home for months, he realizes, clinging to the only person he’d fly 13 hours to visit.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Lewis whispers, pressing fleeting kisses to George’s hair. “Everything is going to be okay now. I promise.”
Deep down, George knows that’s not possible. Lewis can’t fix the shitty way that the car has been driving his season, he can’t get George out of the mid-field, can’t stop him from crashing.
But in that moment, none of that really matters. Lewis is here, George clutches his shoulders, reminding himself that this isn’t a dream.
Lewis waits for George to break the hug, not wanting to let go until the last possible moment. But George’s stomach grumbles and he yawns and Lewis wants to kiss him everywhere and never let him go.
They break apart and Lewis stands on his tiptoes to give George a kiss.
“What would you like to do first, shower or eat?” Lewis sits down on the edge of the bed.
“I want to eat first, but I’d better shower.” George sighs.
“Go shower, I’ll order something for you,” Lewis is already pulling out his phone. “There’s a place I want to take you tonight, but our reservations aren’t until later.”
“Like a date?” George teases, stepping out of Lewis’ reaches as he moves to poke him.
“George,” Lewis laughs, “We’ve been dating for 6 months.”
“What, I can’t be excited to go on a date with my boyfriend?” George leans down, wrapping his arms around Lewis’ neck.
“You can!” Lewis insists, and thinks Please don’t ever stop, "Now go shower, you giant.”
George gets out of the shower and he’s greeted by the smell of garlic fries and Lewis humming some unknown melody under his breath. Speaking of Lewis, he’s clearly been through George’s stuff, laying out a sweater and sweats for him. It’s a small gesture but George has been so overwhelmed… it feels massive.
Before he knows it, there are tears streaming down his face. Lewis looks up from where he’s organizing their clothes and gives a soft smile, walking towards him.
“Georgie,” Lewis pulls him close, “What’s going on?”
George just shakes his head, burying his face in Lewis’ neck. “Just- Just thank you.”
“George, if I could have you with me every single place I go, I would.”
“It’s not just that,” George pulls away, cupping Lewis’ face with his hands, “It’s the reservation, the plane tickets, the clothes on the bed. I’m not sure I deserve any of it, but thank you.”
Lewis frowns, “Stop that.”
George sighs, letting Lewis manhandle him onto the bed. He takes the towel away from George, handing him the sweats instead and watches patiently as George puts them on. Lewis lays down on the bed, pulling George next to him so that they are sprawled across the king-sized bed.
“Are you ready to listen?”
George nods, shy blue eyes finding fiery brown.
“As your teammate, of course I want you to be winning races. I want to be winning races too. But as your boyfriend, and most importantly, your friend, none of that matters to me.
You matter to me, George. And none of that hinges on how good you are at our job.”
George closes his eyes, letting Lewis’ praise wash over his skin.
“Nothing about this relationship is contingent on you being a good driver, or good at anything really.” Lewis pets his hair, “No one has ever-” He trails off.
“What?” George runs his fingertips along Lewis’ jaw, feeling the stubble there, urging him on.
“No one has ever loved me like you love me,” Lewis admits quietly, “If I could give you everything in this world, I would.”
“You have,” George presses their lips together.
“Something about this sport, this stupid, wonderful sport that we both love,” Lewis chuckles, “Is that it makes you feel like you’ve never accomplished anything once you have one mess up. You’ve had a couple of bad races but that doesn’t make you a bad driver.”
“I know,” George sighs, “Somewhere, I know that. Just… not everywhere.”
“Then I’ll keep reminding you.” Lewis presses a kiss to the tip of his nose.
“I love you,” George scrunches his nose.
“I love you so much,” Lewis beams.
George rolls over, bracketing Lewis with his body.
“The fries are getting cold,” Lewis comments dryly, but his hands tell a different story, finding George’s bare chest and tracing along the muscles.
“Don’t care,” George dips his head, kissing down Lewis’ neck, “How much time do we have until the reservation?”
“Definitely enough,” Lewis smirks, flipping them over and pouncing on his half-naked, beautiful boyfriend.
Lewis takes him to a beautiful restaurant in Malibu, dressed to the nines in a beautiful blue outfit that has George drooling, despite the earlier activities. After dinner, they walk along the beach and the breeze of the ocean, mixed with the calm, solid presence of the love of his life next to him, has George feeling calmer than he has in months. Lewis squeezes his hand in reassurance, always knowing what George is feeling, needing in the moment, and George thinks that maybe things are going to be okay after all.