Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There are a few things in life that come at you unexpectedly. Things that, even though they are theoretically possible, are simply so unlikely that genuinely thinking they could ever occur would be stupid. Ridiculous, even.

So it is, of course, a given that when you least expect it to, those things are exactly what hits you square in the face. Such as qualifying P3 in the 2023 Sao Paulo Grand Prix, with Charles Leclerc in P2 and Max Verstappen in P1.

Now, granted, Lance knows that there is a rather high probability that he wouldn’t have remained in P3 had the session not been aborted due to the sudden tropical storm, but here he is, standing in the Aston Martin garage as the announcement that the Q3 session won’t resume reaches him, and he’s instructed to make his way to the safety car garage for post-qualifying interviews and photos. With Max and Charles, which is filling him with a sense of panic and dread he never thought he’d experience after qualifying P3.

In a moment of desperation, Lance opens WhatsApp on his phone and scrolls down to a conversation he hasn’t looked at in months, and one that has been on mute for as long as he can remember. He clicks on the group chat eloquently titled ‘Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group’. He types out a rapid message, all the while making sure there are no cameras trained on him as he does.

Lance Stroll

Guys, what am I supposed to do????

The response from Lando is immediate, and completely unhelpful. As expected.

Lando Norris

Mate, this chat has existed for years
Have you not been paying attention?

Lance Stroll

No, because I literally never thought I
would be in this position!

A hand on the small of his back indicates that it’s time to start moving, and Lance lets himself be guided towards the safety car garage, eyes still glued on his phone.

Lewis Hamilton

There’s no time now, mate. You’ll
have to improvise.

Sergio Pérez

We will help you for the press
conference

Lance lets out a frustrated groan as he hands his phone to his press officer and starts walking through the rain.

As he enters the garage, Max and Charles are already standing by the interviewer, deeply engrossed in one of their trademark debriefs. Next to them, James Hinchcliffe is trying to get Max’s attention for his interview, only for Max to soundly ignore him, as if nothing and no one exists to him outside of the man in red to his left.

Lance doesn’t know which of his emotions is more overpowering; the secondhand embarrassment he feels at how blatantly obvious they’re being, or the fact that watching Max and Charles in their own little world is actually kind of cute.

He realizes it’s the secondhand embarrassment as he watches Max shamelessly grin at James and proudly explain that he was just talking to Charles.

Lance has to resist the urge to roll his eyes, especially when he notices how Charles is quite literally the embodiment of the heart eyes emoji where he’s standing next to Max for his entire interview. And the beeline Charles makes for Max as soon as he hands the microphone to Lance after his P2 interview is even worse than the heart eyes.

He definitely should have been paying attention to that group chat, Jesus fucking Christ.

Approaching the two of them following his own interview almost feels as if Lance is interrupting an extremely intimate moment between them, even though they’re in public. Even though there are numerous cameras trained on them at all times, and it shouldn’t feel this intimate in this kind of setting. And yet, as Lance steps into the space that so inherently belongs to Max and Charles, he feels like an intruder.

It’s not like neither of them are actively ignoring him — in fact, both Max and Charles are making sure to include him in the conversation as they move to where they’ll be taking photos. But those two have such a long and complicated history, two lives intertwined almost since the beginning of time that means they share a connection that is unlike any other. There’s a magnetic pull between them, one that draws them together in a way Lance is yet to see with any of the other drivers on the grid. The way their hands will immediately go to each other’s waist, pulling each other closer, fingers gripping the fabric of a race suit with such force that, if anyone were to really pay attention, it could almost seem as if one was afraid of the other being taken away.

Lance isn’t entirely sure when their rivalry-turned friendship shifted into a romantic relationship, and he hasn’t felt a need to ask anyone about it. It’s not really any of his business, after all. He is of course aware of it — the entire grid is — but asking questions doesn’t feel like it’s his place. They aren’t close enough for Lance to feel entitled to that sort of information and therefore, he chooses not to ask. But the easy familiarity between them is the kind you don’t see with someone who has only recently discovered feelings that go beyond friendship and mutual respect.

At a complete loss of how to properly navigate this situation and deeply regretting his neglect of the support group chat that was created for precisely this type of situation, Lance just smiles. He smiles and tries his very best not to let it show on his face how incredibly out of place he feels even as he collides with Charles in his attempt to take his place to Max’s left, where the P3 finisher is meant to stand. But Charles doesn’t budge, and Max wedges himself between them, leaving Lance confused as he resigns to standing to Max’s right, where Charles should be. He smiles even as he watches Max and Charles grab each other’s waist once, only to let go when they’re told to move further to the left, and then repeating the action once they’re properly positioned for the photos.

As he gives his best, definitely not most strained smile for the cameras that flash from every direction, the voice of Skipper the penguin from Madagascar appears in his mind.

‘Just smile and wave, boys. Smile and wave.’

***

When he opens the group chat as he waits to be summoned for the post-qualifying press conference, he’s met with judgement. Lots of judgement.

Lando Norris

Mate. That was awful

Sergio Pérez

Ai ai ai, Lance

L ewis Hamilton

Rookie mistake, mate. You always have
to wait for them to take their place and
then you can move.

Lance Stroll

But I was P3! P3 always stands on the
left of P1?

Lewis Hamilton

Not according to the Lestappen rules, mate.

Sergio Pérez

Ah, Lewis is right, not with Max and Charles.
There are no rules with Max and Charles.

Lance Stroll

I’m so confused

Fernando Alonso

This is why we pay attention to this
group chat, Lance

George Russell

That was actually painful to watch.

Carlos Sainz

So painful

Lance Stroll

You told me to improvise!

Oscar Piastri

You’re not very good at improvising

Lando Norris

Awful at it, actually.

Lance Stroll

You realize none of you are being
helpful, right?

Lance Stroll

How about you give me advice instead
of judging me?

Lewis Hamilton

Just wedge yourself between them, and
give Charles a warning look. You’ll be
fine then.

Sergio Pérez

Or interrupt their conversations by
including yourself in it

Fernando Alonso

I just change the topic of whatever
conversation they are having

George Russell

I tend to focus on Max and get him to
Maxsplain something to me before Charles
can join in. If you just get him going, he’ll
be too distracted to stop when Charles arrives.

Lando Norris

Or throw something at them. That always
works.

Lewis Hamilton

Maybe don’t listen to Lando.

Carlos Sainz

I just go to planet Carlos

Lance Stroll

What?

Lance Stroll

Carlos, what does that mean?

Lando Norris

There’s no point in asking, mate. He’s
already on Planet Carlos.

George Russell

It means he just zones out whenever he’s
around them. Or thinks about being around
them. I think it might be a PTSD response.

Lando Norris

That’s a bit dramatic, George

George Russell

But am I wrong, Lando?

Lando Norris

I suppose not

Fernando Alonso

And if all else fails just smile and wave,
Lance. Just smile and wave

Lance Stroll

That’s really not helpful, Fernando.

Fernando Alonso

I do not care. 😁

Valtteri Bottas

Just ignore them

Lance Stroll

As much as I appreciate your insight, guys,
how am I meant to use any of this for the
press conference?

Valtteri Bottas

You can’t. You are fucked

Lance Stroll

Jeez, thanks Valtteri.

Valtteri Bottas

You’re welcome✌️

Lance Stroll

That was sarcasm.

Valtteri Bottas

😘

Lewis Hamilton

Honestly, mate, Valtteri is right. There’s
not much you can do about the press conference
except hope they’ll be getting most of the
questions so they can’t focus on each other.

Carlos Sainz

Go visit planet Carlos, Lance. I will meet you
there

Sergio Pérez

Good luck!

Lance Stroll

Fuck.

***

The press conference itself isn’t that bad, but the walk out of the building absolutely is. And Lance doesn’t want to talk about it.

He’s kind of starting to understand what George meant by Carlos having a PTSD response to the two of them.

***

After qualifying, Max, Charles, Lando, and Carlos are hanging out in Max’s hotel room. Charles and Carlos are playing FIFA, sitting on the edge of Max’s bed, deeply engrossed in a match that neither of them are winning as they’re both absolutely awful. Max is lounging in the armchair by the window, and Lando is sprawled out on the small couch across from the Dutchman, scrolling through Instagram.

The Brit barks a laugh at a reel and leans forward across the small table between them to show it to Max. Max puts his own phone down and leans forward to look at Lando’s screen, taking the phone from him with a snort. Lando grins, always pleased whenever people laugh at things he shows them.

The familiar sound of a new WhatsApp message drowns out the sound of the reel and Max’s expression shifts into a look of confusion, eyebrows furrowed together in a frown, and Lando realises all too late that it’s the custom notification sound for that particular group chat.

The Brit doesn’t get to read Lance's message, but Max does.

Lance Stroll

You guys told me they weren’t
going to be THAT bad! You LIED!

“Lando,” Max begins, voice deceptively calm, eyes never straying from the screen of Lando’s phone. “What the fuck is ‘Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group’?"

Lando’s face turns pale, and Carlos whips his head around to stare at the Brit in horror. Next to him, Charles just looks confused. Lando doesn’t look at either of them, wide eyes locked on Max, who is looking at him expectantly.

“Oh, shit.”

Chapter Text

The moment he parks his car at the P2 sign, Carlos Sainz feels the cameras pointed at him. He keeps his visor down as he takes a moment to collect himself, keeping his facial expressions hidden beneath his helmet.

He should be happy, really, managing a P2 on a track like this, but he also knows it’s all just for the show. He won’t be starting P2 tomorrow due to a very undeserved ten-place grid penalty — that pothole cover was not his fucking fault, nor the team’s, and the decision of the FIA giving him a penalty because that thing almost cut his car and him in half is just utter bullshit — but he still has to go through all the shit of finishing P2.

Normally, he wouldn’t mind getting a chance to give his opinion and share his thoughts on the whole ordeal, but the fact that he has to keep his PR game up and do it whilst being around Max and Charles honestly feels like a bigger punishment than the ten-place grid penalty he has been given.

Carlos watches as Charles climbs out of his car, shaking his fist at the camera, celebrating his P1. A well-deserved pole position, Carlos thinks. He drove like an absolute beast, the car finally being in his advantage, and he deserves nothing more.

Although, Carlos can’t help but think he might have deserved it more. But that’s something to think about later.

He barely catches Charles’ hand when the Monégasque reaches inside his cockpit to congratulate him. He briefly squeezes Charles’ hand, but it’s gone as soon as it appears in front of his face. The Monégasque has already turned on his heels, heading over to the scale before Carlos even has the chance to register his teammate being there. With a sigh, he climbs out of his car, and as he makes his way over to get weight himself, he already sees Charles heading over to Max, clasping his hand with the Dutchman’s for a much longer time than he did with his own teammate.

Carlos shakes his head as he stands on the scale, waiting for the numbers to stop going up. The two of them are embarrassing, really, and it’s even more embarrassing to be there with them and encountering the heart-eyes from up close.

The Spaniard straightens his shoulders as he makes his way over to the two lovebirds, who are already engaged in deep conversation with two pairs of eyes as bright as they can be whilst staring at each other.

Time to go to Planet Carlos.

***

George climbs out of his car in parc fermé and makes his way to the scale for his post-qualifying weigh-in. Once the man at the scale has handed him the little note with his weight on it and nodded his approval, George turns to watch the scenes unfolding with the top three.

He watches with a raised eyebrow as Charles, immediately after finishing his post-qualifying interview, heads straight for Max, who appears to be waiting for him, a look of utter glee in those ridiculously blue eyes.

The Brit can’t help but wonder how neither of them can see how obvious they’re being. Wonders how it’s possible for two people who have known each other for as long as Max and Charles have, to not be blatantly aware of how incredibly useless they are at being subtle. After all these years.

Moments later, Carlos comes to join the Monégasque and the Dutchman, an empty look in his eyes that George isn’t sure is because of his grid penalty that will have him starting in P12 tomorrow despite qualifying P2, or if it’s because he’s the unfortunate soul once again having to share a top three finish with those two.

“I always want to finish top three,” a French accented voice sounds from behind him, and George turns his head to see Pierre stepping up next to him. “But honestly, it sucks a bit less not to finish top three when those two are up there.”

George lets out a snort that sounds far less dignified than he would have liked — he has an image to maintain, after all — and turns his attention back to the top three, who are now posing for pictures.

“Are they at it again?” Alex suddenly appears to George’s right, clapping his shoulder. “Poor Carlos.”

Logan — a rather surprising addition to the top ten finisher in the qualifying session — appears next to Alex, looking confused.

“Is Carlos okay?” he asks, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the top three.

Charles and Max are all but plastered against each other’s sides, hands securely resting on each other’s waists, as if there are magnets dragging their hands to the exact spot they always end up in. Carlos, however, is noticeably not plastered to Charles’ other side, maintaining a small amount of space between them that is more than reasonable to any other driver. And as he looks at the camera currently pointed at them, he appears completely zoned out.

“He has gone to Planet Carlos,” Fernando offers from behind Logan, wrapping an arm around the young American’s shoulders and squeezing.

“Not a thought behind those eyes,” Lewis’ voice chimes in, and George turns his head to look at his teammate who seems to have materialized next to Pierre out of fucking nowhere. “Just vibes.”

“Vibes and frustration,” Kevin supplies, having come to stand behind George with his helmet under his arm.

The group stands there, watching the scene unfold before their eyes, each one disappointed not to be top three, but simultaneously relieved they’re not the one third-wheeling Max and Charles this time.

“Look at Charles’ hand, holding on to Max’s race suit for dear life,” Alex points out with a huffed laugh and a roll of his eyes.

“Should we help him?” Logan asks uncertainly with reference to Carlos, tilting his head to the side like a confused puppy. “He looks like he wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole.”

As if sensing multiple pairs of eyes on him, Carlos gives a little thumbs up in their general direction, putting their collective minds at ease without even meeting any of their gazes. George shakes his head.

“Nah, he’s fine,” the Brit concludes, although touched by the American’s seemingly genuine concern for Carlos’ well-being in the presence of Max and Charles at their most obnoxious. “He knows how to deal with them.”

“Qualifying P2 while knowing you have a 10-place grid penalty, and being top two with those two,” Lewis muses, scrunching up his nose in distaste. “That’s gotta be some form of exceptionally cruel and unusual punishment.”

The others nod their heads in sync as the trio break apart following the completion of the photos, and despite Carlos looking like he wants to bolt the fuck out of that situation immediately, he remains where he is, lingering with Max and Charles as the Dutchman is apparently refusing to leave Charles’ side before he absolutely has to.

“Why isn’t he leaving?” Logan asks as Carlos makes a half-hearted attempt to take part in Max and Charles’ debrief.

“If he leaves before Max, it’s going to look weird that Max is still standing there,” George explains.

Behind them, Lance, who hadn’t taken part in Q3 after qualifying P14, joins them, poking his head between Fernando and Logan. “What are we looking at?”

“Carlos’ suffering at the hands of Max and Charles,” Pierre informs him.

“Oh,” comes Lance’s response.

They remain where they are, watching the three until Patrick Dempsey appears with the tiny wheel for Charles to sign and for the pole sitter photographs, and Max and Carlos finally take their leave in the most inconspicuous way possible.

Fernando lets out a hum of approval, releasing Logan in favor of patting Lance on the back condescendingly, with far more force than necessary.

“And that, my dear Canadian boy, is how you third wheel Lestappen.”

“That’s not fair,” Lance mumbles, thinking back to his own encounter with third-wheeling Max and Charles two weeks ago. He still cringes when he thinks about it. “Carlos has had way more experience.”

“Mate, no one has enough experience dealing with those two.”

Carlos backs up Fernando’s words as he joins the other drivers, his eyes still empty and not a hint of life visible in them, and all Lance can do is sympathetically pat his shoulder.

Max and Charles will force them all into early retirement if they keep this up.

***

Oscar Piastri

Well, that was awkward

Lando Norris

Awkward? Mate, they’ve never been worse
Max looked like an overly-excited dog wagging his tail

Fernando Alonso

Will they ever get tired talking about karting?

Sergio Perez

Nope. He even talks about it when Charles is not there
It’s horrible, man

Alex Albon

Oh, I know, mate. He’s awful

Pierre Gasly

Charles isn’t any better, trust me

Logan Sargeant

Does Charles always agree with Max like that?

George Russell

Yes

Kevin Magnussen

Yep

Valtteri Bottas

Pathetic.

Lewis Hamilton

At least they were sticking up for Carlos?
That’s something

Fernando Alonso

It is, although I’m not sure if he heard any
of it

George Russell

He was really out there today.

Sergio Perez

Planet Carlos was maximizing today

Lewis Hamilton

Has anyone heard from him?

Fernando Alonso

No

Pierre Gasly

Non

Alex Albon

Not me

Lando Norris

@Carlos Sainz Back on planet earth,
mate?

Carlos Sainz

👍

Lewis Hamilton

Are you okay?

Carlos Sainz

👎

Sergio Pérez

Wanna drink about it? I have
tequila?

Carlos Sainz

🤝

Sergio Pérez

Be there in 20

Chapter Text

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

Lando Norris

Guys, did you hear? No cooldown room!
No awkward third-wheeling them this race.
Let’s go, Vegas!

Lewis Hamilton

You didn’t read the whole thing, did you?

Lando Norris

What do you mean?

F ernando Alonso

There’ll be a limousine

Lando Norris

What?!

Fernando Alonso

The top three will be in one (1!) limousine
together

Lando Norris

WHAT

Carlos Sainz

They can’t do that to us

Sergio Pérez

That is so unfair

Oscar Piastri

Are they trying to drive us insane?

Nico Hülkenberg

HA! I feel bad for whoever ends up
on the podium with them.

Kevin Magnussen

Good luck to whoever it is

Alex Albon

Well, we don’t know for sure they
will both be on the podium.

Daniel Ricciardo

Max, Charles and Las Vegas?
They will be on the podium.

Carlos Sainz

That 10 place grid penalty doesn’t
sound so bad now

Valtteri Bottas

👍

Sergio Pérez

Is it bad to be happy about a P11
start?

George Russell

Well, I’m fucked

Pierre Gasly

This is the worst possible race to
start P5

Logan Sargeant

The SECOND TIME I MAKE IT TO Q3

Sergio Pérez

Whoever ends up on the podium
I wish you luck

***

As Checo drives past the checkered flag, he’s full of adrenaline. His heart is pounding away in his chest, his head feeling light and elated. Of course, losing P2 to Charles at the very end of the race is disappointing, but a P3 finish from a P12 start is more than good enough. Hell, Checo is impressed by his own race — and so fucking happy to have secured the second place in the 2023 Driver's Championship. Not even losing P2 can do anything to put a damper on his mood.

It’s an incredible achievement.

He smiles so wide that his cheeks are starting to hurt as he drives into parc fermé, the adrenaline still pumping through his body. The excitement coursing through his veins is making his hands tremble slightly as he removes his steering wheel and starts climbing out of his car.

P3 after such an exciting race. It honestly feels like he’s floating as he jumps down from his car onto the asphalt.

He takes off his helmet, still smiling, and glances to the side, where he sees the red race suit of Chales. Then, his eyes settle on the white race suit, and his brain needs a moment to remember that it belongs to his own teammate.

And that’s when it dawns on him. What it means. What’s coming. The limousine.

With them.

The illusion breaks.

“Ah, hijo de puta,” the Mexican mutters under his breath as he resigns himself to his fate for what feels like the millionth time.

***

The Monégasque is looking around the paddock, his eyes scanning over the crowd, and Checo knows he’s looking for Max. Normally, there would be nothing wrong with that, but Charles looks so lost, so fucking desperate without Max by his side, that it now is wrong. It’s pathetic that the man can’t be away from Max for more than a second, and Checo is sure he has never felt more secondhand embarrassment than he does now. But he also knows that Max is on his way and that this will be his one and only chance, so he needs to push his own feelings to the side, and act fast.

“So, that last lap, huh? That was exciting,” Checo says, cringing at how forced his voice sounds.

But luckily, it has the effect he was hoping for, because Charles fixes his gaze on the Mexican and away from the crowd, giving his fellow driver his full attention.

Score.

“It was!” Charles replies excitedly.

“Yeah, good racing, man,” Checo praises. “Especially since your tires —,”

“Charles!”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

The moment Max appears next to them, clasping his hand with Charles’, Checo knows it’s a lost cause, and when the Dutchman starts to apologize for his actions in turn 1, explaining how there was no grip and that he didn’t mean to push Charles that wide, Checo shares a look with Lewis, who’s waiting in line at the scale. The Brit’s face morphs into something sympathetic and all Checo can do is shrug, silently telling him “I tried, man. They’re impossible!”

Because honestly, they are. They used to just include themselves in whatever conversation the other one was having, but lately they’ve changed that into just cutting the conversation short and starting their own, new conversation.

It’s quite impolite, in fact.

And the fact that Max has not even acknowledged his own teammate is just downright rude. Especially seeing Checo is literally standing right fucking next to him.

With a barely suppressed snort, Checo pats his teammate on the lower back to get his attention. The look of utter surprise on Max’s face when he turns to look at him is actually ridiculous, and it takes everything he has not to roll his eyes dramatically at how blatantly obvious the two of them are being. Again. Already lost in their own little world.

When the FIA official comes to herd them together for photos, Checo goes willingly, hoping to God they’ll manage to behave for once.

Unsurprisingly, they don’t.

Charles ends up between him and Max, and Max doesn’t even care — just wraps his arm around Charles’ lower back and holds onto his waist, already posing for pictures. Even though he’s in the wrong place.

It’s actually borderline embarrassing, and Checo finds himself wondering which deity he pissed off this time to deserve this once again. But it gets even worse as Charles insists on Max standing between them, where the winner of the race belongs, and physically grabs onto the Dutchman’s waist and maneuvers him where he belongs.

He wonders if his smile looks as strained as it feels.

(He’ll come to realize that it does, later, when he watches the replay of the moment.)

As the FIA official tells them it’s time to go to the limousine — fuck that fucking limousine, seriously — Checo is actually relieved to catch a break from Maxsplaining and Leclerifying. He leads the way through the crowd and doesn’t hesitate to get into the car because he is not going to be trapped between Max and Charles in the middle seat, thank you very much.

He gets comfortable behind the driver, watching as Charles gestures for the Red Bull mechanic to get in before him, which is weird. But then it becomes clear that Charles probably thought it was Max who was right behind him, if the sudden look of confusion on his face is anything to go by. And Checo does give into the urge to roll his eyes as he sees Charles looking around, clearly searching for Max, and he mumbles an apology to Francesco sitting next to him for the awkwardness that will undoubtedly come.

Charles gets into the car, clearly confused, as Max finally catches up to them, and he wonders if anyone warned poor Francesco about what he was getting himself into by representing the team on the podium this evening. The man takes it all in his stride, though, not seeming the least bit bothered as he climbs back out of the limousine to go sit in the front so the three drivers can squeeze together in the back.

Which is every bit as awful as Checo had expected it to be.

He tries to take part in the conversation, he really does. He tries to contribute, to bring some sort of value to yet another one of their famous debriefs, but after a while, he realizes what a waste of energy it is.

As Checo sits in the limousine on their way to the post-race interviews, Max pressed against his side with him and Charles talking non-stop, deeply engrossed in another session of Maxsplaining and Leclerifying, he gives up on trying to pay attention. On trying to take part in their debrief.

He stares straight ahead and tries to clear his mind of all thoughts. Doesn’t realize how it looks like his soul is leaving his body as Max and Charles' chatter invades his ears despite his best efforts to block them out.

He needs Carlos to teach him how to go to Planet Carlos.

Hell, maybe Carlos can teach him to create Planet Checo.

As soon as the limousine comes to a halt and the door opens, Checo hightails it out of there. He’s never been more eager to get to his post-race interview in his entire career. But, even as he focuses on David Coulthard asking him a series of questions, he doesn’t miss the way Max and Charles are once again in their own little world out of the corner of his eye.

Fucking ridiculous, the both of them.

***

Once Max finishes his interview, the three of them group together as they wait for the all-clear to return to the limousine to be taken back for the podium procedure, watching the admittedly impressive water show of the Fountains of Bellagio.

Well, Checo watches the fountains. Max and Charles, to absolutely nobody’s surprise, are watching each other. And it’s at that exact moment that Checo decides to say fuck it, and sit between them in the limo on the way back to the podium. Because at this point, he’s willing to try anything. Hell, he’ll crash the fucking limousine if he has to.

Because that cannot be worse than this.

***

It is.

It’s a million times worse.

Jesus fucking Christ.

***

During the podium celebrations, Checo is lured into a false sense of security because Max and Charles aren’t hunting each other down with their champagne bottles for once. In fact, they are behaving quite well.

Suspiciously well, in fact. To such an extent that it catches Checo completely off guard when Max sprays him directly in the fucking face with champagne, and the Mexican thinks he’s finally — fucking finally — going to catch a break with them.

Until Charles avenges him by spraying Max directly in the fucking face with champagne. And the way they’re both smiling at each other like this is some weird form of foreplay for them, that Checo is unwillingly becoming a part of.

He doesn’t quite understand how, but somehow it’s worse than anything he’s experienced so far this evening.

But, if nothing else, that should mean the post-race press conference won’t be even worse.

***

As they make their way to the press conference, Checo trailing behind Max and Charles as per usual, he pulls out his phone and opens the 'Surviving Being Top Three With Lestappen Support Group'.

Lando Norris

I thought my crash was the most
painful experience of this race

Lando Norris

But Checo, mate

Lando Norris

Lando Norris

Are you okay?

Lewis Hamilton

That is the single most awkward
thing I’ve ever seen.

Lewis Hamilton

Checo, you good?

Daniel Ricciardo

Never thought I’d say this, but I’m
so glad I didn’t make the podium.

Yuki Tsunoda

Ouch Checo

Zhou Guanyu

That was hard to watch

Carlos Sainz

Ay, Checo

Sergio Pérez

It looked as bad as it was?

George Russell

Without question.

Alex Albon

I'm afraid so.

Lance Stroll

Well, well, well. Looks like your
own advice wasn’t very effective
after all, huh?

Fernando Alonso

Lance, shut up.

Sergio Pérez

🖕

Valtteri Bottas

Atta boy!

***

Checo doesn’t want to talk about the press conference, nor does he want to read the many, many messages that were sent in the group chat during it.

He only reads one — the most recent one from Carlos.

Carlos Sainz

@Sergio Pérez Tequila?

Sergio Pérez

Please

Carlos Sainz

Be there in 20

Chapter Text

Esteban is lounging in a chair in the Alpine motorhome on the Wednesday before the 2023 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. He’s tired from the trip here and a little jet lagged from the long stint they’ve recently done in the Americas, and there’s a terribly irritating throbbing in his temples.

Across from him, Pierre lets out a noise that can only be classified as a strangled giggle that has Esteban looking up at him, eyebrows raised in a silent question.

Pierre doesn’t meet his gaze.

“Quoi?" Esteban groans, because that sound never means anything good. (“What?”)

Pierre does look up to meet his gaze, then, his eyes shining with thinly veiled evil.

"Le programme de la conférence de presse est sorti,” Pierre tells him, trying and failing to bite back a smile. (“The schedule for the press conference is out.”)

"Pourquoi ça te rend heureux?" Esteban asks, sounding as suspicious as he looks. (“Why does that make you happy?”)

Pierre grins, expression radiating mischievous glee.

“Parce que t'es avec Max et Charles." (“Because you’re grouped with Max and Charles.”)

For a moment, Esteban just stares at his teammate with wide eyes. Then, he scrambles to pull out his own phone to see the schedule for himself.

His group for tomorrow’s press conference stares back at him.

Lance, Valtteri, Esteban himself, Max and Charles.

“Bordel de merde!” Esteban exclaims helplessly, as he falls back into his seat. ("For fuck's sake!")

And Pierre — the fucking asshole — cackles at his misery.

By now, the throbbing in his temples has morphed into a full-fledged headache.

***

The next morning, Esteban calls in sick for the press conference, blaming a ruthless migraine.

It’s a lie, obviously. But if he was to be forced to sit through that press conference with Max and Charles with the way they’ve been behaving lately, Esteban is sure he would have actually ended up with a splitting migraine. And he’s just not subjecting himself to that. Not this close to the winter break.

It’s called self-care, thank you very much.

And when he watches the press conference later, he knows he made the right call.

***

Sergio Pérez

Did you really call in sick for
the press conference, @Esteban
Ocon?

Carlos Sainz

How dare you

Esteban Ocon

You are just bitter you never
thought of it before

Lance Stroll

I can’t believe you called in sick!
When you left me to fend for myself!

Esteban Ocon

It is not my fault you are all
amateurs

Lando Norris

Esteban, you fucking coward

Esteban Ocon

EstieBestie with the genius
moves, baby!

Esteban Ocon

😘

Chapter Text

Was Oscar hoping for a top three finish in qualifying for the final race of the season? Absolutely. Did he genuinely think it was going to happen? Absolutely not.

And yet, here he is, parking his car in front of the P3 sign in parc fermé. He doesn’t even care about the incident with Pierre being noted by the stewards because right now, he's starting the race on the second row tomorrow. And that's all that fucking matters.

Does Max and Charles being P1 and P2 respectively take some of the joy out of it? Yes, of course it does. The two of them have been a whole new level of insufferable for the past few weeks. But, Oscar has watched his colleagues suffer at the hands of them enough times this season to come prepared. To every qualifying and every race, just in case. 

And now, it’s going to pay off. 

As he steps off the scale, he doesn’t miss how the FIA president seems to interrupt Max and Charles mid-handshake, and he makes a mental note to bring that up to the others, later. But right now, he needs to focus on the task at hand: making the next few minutes as bearable as possible for himself.

As they line up to have their photos taken, Oscar makes a point out of placing his hand as low on Max’s lower back as possible without it being weird, just so Charles can’t beat him to it. It has the desired effect, because the Monégasque's hand briefly rests on top of his own before realizing his mistake, and moves further up Max’s back.

Phase one complete.

He gives his best smile for the cameras and as soon as they're dismissed, Oscar initiates phase 2.

As soon as he lowers his arm, he speaks directly to Charles:

“Let’s go, Charles,” he says, loudly.

And Charles, clearly having had every intention to linger just slightly, even as he's pretending to make a move to leave, to get his fix of Maxsplaining and Leclerifying before Max has to accept his trophy, blinks at him, briefly confused, before he does as Oscar tells him to and walks off, leaving Oscar to follow, putting himself between Charles and Max to stop the Monégasque from changing his mind.

Like an obedient puppy.

It’s only when they’ve put enough space between them and Max for it to be too late for Charles to turn back, that the Ferrari driver turns to Oscar in confusion. 

“Wait…” he tries, but Oscar places a hand between his shoulder blades and pushes, keeping him moving.

“Nope!” the Australian sing-songs, and Charles keeps moving, too flabbergasted and confused by the development to try to argue with him.

Phase two complete.

***

Lando Norris

Oscar, that was masterful

Sergio Pérez

I am impressed

Carlos Sainz

How??????

George Russell

That was a work of art, Oscar.
Well done.

Lance Stroll

How did you do that???

Oscar Piastri

By watching all of you fail.

Esteban Ocon

👏👏👏👏

Alex Albon

I am honestly impressed.

Yuki Tsunoda

Me too

Zhou Guanyu

Me 3

Logan Sargeant

I am literally taking notes

Fernando Alonso

But seriously Oscar, how?

Lance Stroll

Yeah, teach us your ways.

Oscar Piastri

Just catch Charles off guard
by telling him what to do. He's
like a puppy.

Oscar Piastri

But did any of you see the president
interrupting their handshake?

Lewis Hamilton

Yep. I paid him.

Nico Hülkenberg

How the hell did you do that?

Lewis Hamilton

I just handed him money and told
him to do what he could. He didn’t
ask questions.

Kevin Magnussen

Huh. Clever

Lewis Hamilton

You're welcome, Oscar. Not that
you seemed to need it.

George Russell

All in favour of crowning Oscar as
the king of Lestappen third wheeling
in 2023?

Lando Norris

AYE

Alex Albon

Aye

Yuki Tsunoda

Yes

Kevin Magnussen

Aye

Lewis Hamilton

Aye.

Zhou Guanyu

Definitely

Nico Hülkenberg

Without a doubt.

Pierre Gasly

Oui

Esteban Ocon

Yes

Logan Sargeant

Aye!

Sergio Pérez

Aye

Carlos Sainz

Sí

Fernando Alonso

Yes

Lance Stroll

Aye

Daniel Ricciardo

100%!

Valtteri Bottas

👍

George Russell changed Oscar Piastri’s nickname.

Oscar Piastri 👑

Bow down, bitches

Chapter Text

George Russell

I’m forecasting a podium today,
boys. And I have the perfect plan
for how to deal with Max and Charles
if they’re up there with me.

Lando Norris

Well, there’s nothing wrong with
your confidence levels today, George.
I’ll give you that.

Alex Albon

Do share.

Oscar Piastri 👑

I need to hear this

George Russell

You fools. I’m not telling you my
plan ahead of time.

George Russell

I guess you will just have to wait
and see. But I promise, it is
going to be genius.

Lewis Hamilton

Make me proud, George.

Carlos Sainz

First you have to actually make
the podium

Sergio Pérez

Which you will not

Lance Stroll

Come on, George, at least give
us a hint?

George Russell

No hints. But mark my words,
you will witness something glorious
tonight.

George Russell

Better be ready to give up that
crown, Oscar.

***

As expected, George does end up on the podium, and so do Max and Charles. Granted, he has Checo’s five second penalty to thank for that after making contact with Lando in the race, but a podium finish is a podium finish. And securing the second place in the Constructors Championship ahead of Ferrari definitely helps sweeten the deal.

As he climbs out of his car for the final time that season, George feels like he’s on top of the world. And as he celebrates with members from his team in parc fermé, there is no denying that this is the biggest high of what has otherwise been a less than ideal season.

He hadn’t been exaggerating when telling the others he had a master plan for how to deal with Max and Charles and their obnoxious obsession with each other in plain sight of everyone else, and he was actually excited to put that plan into action once it was confirmed that he would be on the podium with the two of them.

He’d show the others how an expert deals with Lestappen.

In the cooldown room, he puts his plan into action by capturing Charles’ attention before Max comes to join them on the couch, ensuring the two of them can’t dive headfirst into another debrief that has the rest of the world seemingly cease to exist around them. And it goes well, too — exceptionally well, if George can say so himself.

Until he starts coughing. Violently. The same violent cough he’s been fighting for the past couple of weeks and that he was sure he had managed to get rid of by now. And when Max smiles that menacingly fucking smile at him, and Charles’ eyes start shining with amusement despite the disappointment on missing out on second place in the Constructors Championship, George knows he’s fucked.

***

The podium isn’t that bad. The post-race press conference, on the other hand, is absolute hell.

As he had feared, the coughing persists, and as they’re sitting on the red couch for the post-race press conference, George’s coughing has already given Max and Charles a reason to gang up on him before it even starts. And it’s not like the two assholes need the additional ammunition, with their obnoxious synchronization and their heart eyes whenever they’re talking about fighting the other on the track, or — even worse — talking fondly about their karting days and the inchident, which they have made a habit out of bringing up at every single chance they get these days. Being stuck in a press conference with the pair of them is bad enough as it is, without George’s violent coughing giving them yet another reason to be insufferable and being blatantly obvious about how much they’re both enjoying it. Not to mention the fact that the coughing is making it impossible for him to complete his master plan.

As he starts coughing while Charles is in the middle of answering a question, George wants to strangle them both when they start laughing at him, as if hearing George Russell cough is the single funniest event that has ever transpired in either of their sad, little lives.

(Is he just slightly bitter about it all? Possibly. He’s doing a marvelous job of hiding it, though, he will have you know.)

It happens again when Max is in the middle of answering a question, and George mentally curses whoever is responsible for making him sick in the first place, leaving him in such a compromising position with the two worst possible drivers it could happen around because he is suffering.

This was not a part of his master plan.

When it happens a third time right at the end of the press conference, it’s the final nail in his coffin.

They tease him about it from the moment they leave the press conference, until the moment they go their separate ways, looking and sounding like absolute love sick teenagers as they giggle so hard that Charles at one point has to stop walking, supporting himself with a hand pressed against the wall as he doubles over with laughter. And Max, the absolute knobhead, pats the Monégasque’s back affectionately as he, too, is laughing so hard that tears are spilling from his eyes, while all George can do is stand there and watch them.

George absolutely despises them both.

***

Lando Norris

You know, George, when you said
you had a “master plan” on how to
deal with them, I didn’t think you
meant coughing.

Oscar Piastri 👑

I’ll be honest, George, that was
glorious.

Oscar Piastri 👑

Gloriously bad

Carlos Sainz

😂😂😂

Sergio Pérez

Oh George, that was awful

Lewis Hamilton

I said make me proud, George,
not embarrass yourself.

Fernando Alonso

We have different definitions of
genius, amigo

Nico Hülkenberg

Wow. Genius indeed, George

Yuki Tsunoda

hahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahaha

Lando Norris

This is my new favorite picture

Lando Norris

Zhou Guanyu

Looking good, George!

Kevin Magnussen

Excellent master plan, George.
I am impressed

Kevin Magnussen

Not

Alex Albon

Oh Georgie, that was horrendous.

Daniel Ricciardo

I think your crown is pretty safe,
@Oscar Piastri.

Esteban Ocon

🤣

Pierre Gasly

You should host a class, George

Lance Stroll

You can call it “How NOT To Third
Wheel Lestappen”

Logan Sargaent

👆👆👆

Valtteri Bottas

Haha.

Lando Norris

YES LANCE!!!!

Oscar Piastri 👑

[Forwarded message from George Russell:
“Better be ready to give up that
crown, Oscar.”]

Oscar Piastri 👑

You were saying, @George Russell?

George Russell

I hate each and every one of
you.

George Russell

So very, very much.

George Russell

And NONE of you are getting
a Christmas card.

Chapter Text

“That’s P3, George. Well done!”

Marcus’ voice makes a wide grin break out on George’s face inside his helmet. Finishing top three in the first qualifying of the season is an excellent start. Sure, he obviously would have preferred being P1, but there is no denying that it’s an impressive start. And George will take it.

But Marcus’ next message, mere seconds later, takes away the joy and replaces it with a sense of dread.

“Verstappen P1, Leclerc P2.”

George wonders if the team would kill him if he sent his car into the barriers.

He concludes that they likely would, and disregards the thought. Eventually. Begrudgingly.

***

George is honestly surprised during the little debrief as they wait for the post-race interviews to start. Both Max and Charles are clearly making an effort to include him in their famous Maxsplaining and Leclerifying sessions, and Max is doing an amazing job at maintaining eye contact with George for once. Even with the way Charles leans towards Max, and the way Max keeps looking at Charles while he’s waiting for his interview to start, making weird faces that has Charles smiling like a lovesick puppy.

It could be so much worse, George finds himself thinking.

It lulls him into a false sense of security, and reality hits when it’s time to pose for photos.

By the time George goes to join them, Max is already in the process of lining up to Charles’ left and grabbing his waist, completely disregarding the fact that he’s in the wrong spot. Again.

George swears that if that had been anyone but Charles standing in his P1 spot, the Dutchman would have physically removed whoever it was to claim his rightful place. And yet when it’s Charles, Max doesn’t even seem to realize that he’s in the wrong spot. Had it not been for Charles manhandling him into the middle between them, Max likely would have happily stayed where he was.

It’s ridiculous how the whole world seems to cease to exist for Max Verstappen when Charles is anywhere within the near vicinity, and the only thing he seems to care about is getting to hold Charles’ waist. And Charles is equally bad, but at least his unyielding love and adoration for everything Max does in life, and his endless pride whenever Max succeeds means that he has enough sense to set things right when Max doesn’t even give a shit about things being wrong.

George suddenly feels awful for Checo for having had to experience this exact torture in Las Vegas last year.

The second the photographers dismiss him, George is off, having no intention of subjecting himself to those two and their bubble of love for any longer than what is strictly necessary.

He honestly can’t believe that he’s starting this season the same way he ended the last, and he wonders which deity he has pissed off and how to deserve it.

All he can do is hope — pray — that the post-qualifying press conference isn’t as awful.

***

The good news is that the post-qualifying press conference is not as awful as the post-qualifying photos.

The bad news is that it’s much, much worse. So much worse.

The second they sit down on that couch, it’s like George becomes invisible.

He tries, in the beginning, he really does. He inserts himself in the conversation, forcing them to include him, and they let him. Hell, when Charles leans towards Max George does the same, truly trying his damnedest to not let this become a repeat of the last press conference he had to suffer through alone with these two. But he knows it’s only a matter of time before his efforts will become nothing more than a waste of energy.

It doesn’t take long before he gives up, resigning himself to his fate and silently berating himself for not preparing himself for the possibility of this being the way his season would start. He knew he shouldn’t have taken Red Bull’s disappointing results in the free practices seriously.

Eventually, George ends up zoning out completely, only forcing himself to pay attention when a question is directed at him. And by the time the press conference is opened up to the floor, George has made himself a nice little home on what he thinks must be planet Carlos, staring straight ahead, unblinking, as Max and Charles yap away next to him.

The way they both jump in surprise when Max is, unsurprisingly, the recipient of the first question would have made George roll his fucking eyes if it wasn’t for his media training.

So instead, George sighs, plasters an empty smile on his face, and does his best to answer questions whenever he gets them. And in the meantime, he thinks about Kate Middleton and what could possibly explain her 66-day long absence from the public.

He’s really starting to see the appeal of planet Carlos.

***

Oscar Piastri

Well, George, I see you’re starting as
strong as you finished last season

Lewis Hamilton

I’m not even going to lie. I’m glad that
wasn’t me.

Sergio Pérez

Watching the photo op gave me
flashbacks to Vegas

Sergio Pérez
My condolences, George

Carlos Sainz

I hope you enjoyed your visit to
planet Carlos, George

Fernando Alonso

Once again showing your genius of
how to deal with Max and Charles, George

Nico Hülkenberg

Hahahaha

Lando Norris

😂😂😂

George Russell

I hate you all.

Chapter Text

Checo had a feeling this would happen. Ever since FP3, he’d been walking around with a looming sense of dread that he’d be stuck with Max and Charles after qualifying. The Red Bulls cars were performing really well in Jeddah, but so was Charles’ fucking Ferrari, which was causing Checo all sorts of stress.

It wasn’t even the knowledge that Charles had the potential of outqualifying him — no, Checo could live with that if that would turn out to be the case. But it was the goddamned risk of having to suffer through yet another top three finish with Professional Yapper 1 (Max) and Professional Yapper 2 (Charles). They were only one and three quarter weekends into the season, and Checo was already done with them both.

He doesn’t know how it’s humanly possible, but the two of them have become even more insufferable than before.

So when he parks his car in front of the P3 sign in parc fermé, he sends Charles’ stupid Ferrari a glare as he climbs out of his car. As if the car has personally betrayed him.

He spots Max and to his surprise notices that Charles isn’t already attached at his hip.

‘Not today’ Checo thinks to himself as he approaches his teammate with determined steps. ‘You two will not make me suffer today.’

“Impressive lap time from Charles, no?” he says to Max in an attempt to draw his teammate into a rant about his absolute favorite topic in the world: his fucking boyfriend’s races. He’s not even listening to the excited jumble of words coming out of Max’s mouth, just nods along every so often to give off the impression that he actually cares.

The fact that it seems to work catches Checo completely off-guard, and he watches with satisfaction as Charles and Max exchange nothing but a short handshake — and that hopeless fucking attempted wink from Charles, Jesus Christ — before Charles goes to take off his helmet and Checo is summoned for his post-qualifying interview.

As he trades places with Charles following his interview, Checo isn’t sure which higher power he has to thank for keeping his ridiculous teammate and his ridiculous boyfriend at bay. But, whoever it is, Checo is eternally grateful.

When it’s Max’s turn to do his post-qualifying interview, Checo decides to try the same tactic he tried with Max and starts asking Charles about Max’s qualifying as they sit on the step in front of the video board. And, much to the Mexican’s delight, it works. He watches with fascination as Charles’ eyes light up as he starts going into detail about Max and his lap times, gesturing animatedly with his hands. Hell, he even does his best to listen to the words coming out of Charles’ mouth at a rapid pace, fully determined to keep this fucking conversation going right up until the two of them are dismissed after the top three photo op.

For a moment immediately after Max’s interview is done, Checo thinks he succeeds.

Until Max’s laser focus settles on Charles’ face, catching the Monégasque’s eyes.

“Charles —,” Checo tries to intercept, but it’s too late.

Charles’ gaze has locked on its favorite target, and Checo might very well have become invisible from that moment on.

He doesn’t understand how, but by the time he has managed to join them a whooping two seconds later Max and Charles are already deep in their debrief session, and Checo wouldn’t have been able to get a word in edgewise even if he had wanted to try.

Neither man looks at him. Not even as Checo fucking walks right between them does he manage to catch either of their gazes. No, they only have eyes for each other and Checo Pérez has long since ceased to exist in their little bubble.

But, he is still a professional who is very aware of the many, many cameras trained on them. So he resists the overwhelming urge to flee the second the obligatory photos have been taken and hangs around, pretending to listen. Pretending to be a part of the conversation, even if Max and Charles are so focused on each other that Checo probably could have smacked himself in the face with his bottle and neither one would have even batted an eye.

Which honestly doesn’t seem like such a bad idea right there and then. Maybe he could just knock himself the fuck out with his Red Bull bottle. He genuinely considers it for approximately one and a half seconds until he decides that likely wouldn’t be such a good idea after all, given the fact that he still needs to race tomorrow. Maybe he’ll do it after the race, if it ends up being a repeat of this evening.

‘Well, at least it can’t get any worse than this,’ he thinks to himself, and jinxes that particular statement immediately.

The FIA official actually has to come over and borderline drag Charles away from Max so his teammate can accept his P1 award from Gianluigi Buffon, and Checo finds himself wishing he had knocked himself out with the bottle after all.

***

If Checo thought parc fermé was bad, the press conference is somehow infinitely worse. Max and Charles have barely stopped debriefing for a single second from the moment they left parc fermé and until the press conference starts.

For once Checo is grateful for the distraction of the questions because it forces Max and Charles to shut the fuck up and pay attention for a few seconds. But, as soon as Checo is in the line of fire for the interviewer and the journalists, the two of them go right back to existing in their own little bubble that nobody else is allowed to join.

By the time Charles starts talking about his favorite circuits, Max takes it upon himself to remind the Monégasque that one of his favorite circuits is Monaco — as if the whole fucking world and their mothers didn’t already know that particular tidbit —, Checo has checked out of the press conference and planet earth at large completely. And at this point, he’s not sure he even plans to return.

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

Lando Norris

Guys

Lando Norris

I’m afraid we’ve lost Checo

Lando Norris

Lewis Hamilton

Checo, you okay?

Oscar Piastri 👑

And here I was feeling bad for George last
weekend

Oscar Piastri 👑

This is much worse

Fernando Alonso

Checo, where did you go?

George Russell

I think we all know where he went.

Logan Sargeant

Planet Carlos: Population - Checo.

Carlos Sainz

I did not think I would be relieved to have appendicitis

Alex Albon

I wish I had a second appendix.

Sergio Pérez

If this happens tomorrow I am sending my car into
the barriers

Chapter Text

Checo does not end up sending his car into the barriers, for the simple reason that he has hope that Oscar will pass Charles before the checkered flag and ensure he doesn’t have to suffer the same horrible fate twice in a single weekend.

But then Hugh's voice comes across the radio to tell Checo that Charles did, in fact, finish third. And the Mexican starts zoning out before he even parks his car in parc fermé.

He doesn’t even bother trying this time around.

Out of his peripheral vision, he sees Max and Charles engrossed in one of their infamous debriefing sessions as he's conducting his post-race interview and he knows it’s a lost cause. So he doesn’t waste his energy.

In the cooldown room, he talks to Charles until Max appears, cracking a joke and the two of them lock eyes. He makes a half-assed attempt to keep the conversation going with Charles even then, but he quickly realizes it’s futile because Max and Charles are still Max and Charles. Then, he stops listening altogether as his brain starts playing Enrique Iglesias’ Bailando on repeat instead as he stares at the TV screen.

He's distantly aware of Max’s and Charles’ voices, but the only thing he actually registers is his own brain screaming:

‘Bailando (bailando)
Bailando (bailando)
Tu cuerpo y el mío llenando el vacío
Subiendo y bajando (subiendo y bajando)’

On the podium, Checo has disassociated to the point where he doesn’t even hear the Dutch national anthem, nor the Austrian one.

‘Bailando (bailando)
Bailando (bailando)
Ese fuego por dentro me va enloqueciendo
Me va saturando’

The smile he forces following the champagne celebrations, along with the few words he exchanges with his colleagues, appear for no other reason than the fact that Checo has been in this position enough times to know what’s expected of him, and his mouth is acting without Checo needing to think.

‘Con tu física y tu química, también tu anatomía
La cerveza y el tequila, y tu boca con la mía
Ya no puedo más (ya no puedo más)
Ya no puedo más (ya no puedo más)’

As they pose for pictures on the podium, Checo has begun moving on autopilot, barely even registering the people around and Max’s hand on his waist.

By the time he's dismissed, Checo has already gone to planet Carlos and built himself a home there as his mind keeps singing to him.

‘Con esta melodía, tu color, tu fantasía
Con tu filosofía mi cabeza está vacía
Y ya no puedo más (ya no puedo más)
Ya no puedo más (ya no puedo más)’

And Checo finds himself thinking that planet Carlos and Enrique Iglesias is the single most beautiful combination because it means that he successfully manages to drown out Max and Charles’ yapping next to him. Even as he's sitting next to his idiot teammate and his idiot teammate’s idiot life-long obsession during the post-race press conference, Checo manages not to hear a single word either of them is saying.

Every time either of them open their mouths to speak, be it to each other or to whoever is asking them questions, Checo doesn’t hear them. All he hears is Enrique's comforting voice singing over and over again.

‘Yo quiero estar contigo
Vivir contigo, bailar contigo
Tener contigo una noche loca (una noche loca)
Ay, besar tu boca (y besar tu boca)

Yo quiero estar contigo
Vivir contigo, bailar contigo
Tener contigo una noche loca
Con tremenda nota’

And if that means Checo barely hears the few questions directed at him during the press conference? Well, then that's a small price that he's more than willing to pay.

Anything to get a break from Max and Charles, no matter how small.

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

Lewis Hamilton

Checo, I'm dying to know what was going
through your head during the press
conference.

Lando Norris

Me too! You looked disturbingly calm

Fernando Alonso

Frighteningly calm

George Russell

I've never seen you that composed around
them.

Oscar Piastri 👑

Yeah, what’s your secret?

Sergio Pérez

No thoughts, just vibes

George Russell

Wouldn’t work for me. My mind is too full
of knowledge at all times.

Alex Albon

Oh, shut the fuck up, George

Chapter Text

When Charles parks his car sideways on the track during free practice and Max doesn’t seem to get any higher than P18, Checo feels the relief that he might be safe from third-wheeling the two lovebirds at some point this weekend. Even though he doesn't get higher than P7 himself in free practice, he knows that he hasn't given his all, and he proves it when he climbs to P1 almost at the end of the session. He silently hopes — prays even — that for once he’s faster than Max, that he can beat the Dutchman and keep him out of the top three, but then Max jumps to P1 in the final seconds of the session, and even though Charles hasn’t even completed a full lap and has only seen the inside of his garage for the rest of the session, Checo has the eerie feeling that he is going to have to deal with not only the Miami heat, but a completely different heat later that same day.

***

Checo hates it when his gut is right — that’s not quite true, because his gut has helped him win many, many lotteries and poker games before, but right now he hates that he was right.

As he crosses the finish line in P2 behind Max, Checo keeps a close eye on the screen at the side of the track, literally crossing everything he has, but then Charles jumps into P2, pushing him down to P3, and he lets out a string of Spanish expletives that would certainly not be appropriate for the team radio. He starts to think that Charles is screwing up free practice on purpose, just so he can smack everyone in the face when it comes time.

Or at least smack him in the face, because as Checo waits at his little P3 pillar, gulping down his much-needed bottle of water, he sees Max park his car, and even though the Dutchman is still wearing his helmet, Checo can already see the satisfied grin on Max's face. He proves it when he looks over his shoulder to see where Charles is, but it seems Charles is having trouble finding the entrance to the pit lane as the Monégasque keeps them waiting. At least it gives the Mexican time to come up with a strategy on how to deal with them this time.

When Charles finally does find the pit lane entrance and his ugly-ass car joins them, parking in front of his P2 sign — Checo is surprised every time he doesn’t see Charles absolutely butcher a parking job – he makes a decision. One for his own mental health and well-being, because he can.

Because that’s the beauty of sprint qualifying: there are no photo ops for the top three finishers, and there's no post-qualifying press conference. So for once in his stupid fucking ‘cursed to be Max and Charles’ semi-permanent third wheel’ life, Checo has a stroke of luck. Because Max is the only one hounded for a post-qualifying interview, whereas Checo and Charles are free to go immediately post weigh-in. So Checo practically runs to the scale, stands on it, gets his weight, and then fucking hightails it out of there.

He's simply not dealing with Maxsplaining and Leclerifying, and godforsaken heart eyes and sexual tension so thick you could cut through it with a knife. So he takes the very rare chance of finishing top three with Max and Charles gives him due to it being the qualifying for the sprint: he leaves. And nobody can stop him.

Not today, Satan. Not fucking today.

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

Lando Norris

Checo, where did you go, mate?

Alex Albon

Yeah, were you even in parc fermé?

Yuki Tsunoda

He had to be, because his car was
there.

Lando Norris

Yuki 😩

Yuki Tsunoda

What?

Carlos Sainz

@Sergio Pérez?

Sergio Pérez

Estos pinches idiotas enamorados

Sergio Pérez

Hijos de puta

Sergio Pérez

Son pendejos

Sergio Pérez

Chinguen sus madres

Sergio Pérez

Estoy harto de ser la tercera rueda. Alguien
tiene que hablar con ellos

Lando Norris

Carlos, translation, please?

Carlos Sainz

This conversation is not suitable for
anyone under 29.

Carlos Sainz

@Sergio Pérez Tequila?

Sergio Pérez

Por favor

Carlos Sainz

On my way

Lando Norris

You know we have Google Translate,
right?

Lando Norris

Carlos?

Oscar Piastri 👑

Jesus Christ, Lando, just let it go

Chapter Text

As Checo gets the checkered flag, all he can see is the back of Charles' car. And he finds himself wondering what the fuck he did to deserves this fate twice in the space of a day.

He feels heavy as he climbs out of his car in parc fermé, and as his gaze settles upon his teammate, he watches as Max's expression shifts from one of somewhat delighted indifference — another P1 finish, who would have fucking thought — to one of utter glee. Because Charles Leclerc has just entered Max's line of sight and Checo is tired.

Of the heart eyes. Of the sexual tension. Of the Maxsplaining and the Leclerifying. He's so fucking tired, and they’re only halfway through the weekend.

Who the hell did he piss off to find himself deserving of this punishment?

He tries not to notice the pair of them fully engrossed in yet another one of their debriefs out of the corner of his eyes during his post-sprint interview, but he fails. Because Charles' ugly race suit is too bright, and so is Max's smile, and the Mexican wishes he could throttle them both, just a little.

For the photo op, he zones out entirely: goes to Planet Carlos and stays there. 

It's the self-care he needs. The self-care he deserves.

The post-sprint press conference is like any other: with Max and Charles being in their own little world while Checo is forced to be the odd man out.

How many times has he been forced to suffer this fate?

Far too many. 

So he does the only thing he knows how to do: He goes to Planet Carlos and pretends like the world around him doesn’t exist.

Because he's far too old not to prioritize himself.

And because he can’t ask Carlos to bring him tequila when they still have race quali to get through. No matter how much it hurts him.

***

Sergio Pérez

I'm not doing this a third time in one weekend.

Sergio Pérez

Someone needs to take one of them out, or
out-qualify me.

Sergio Pérez

I'm done.

Chapter Text

When Checo had said that somebody else needed to out-qualify him so he wouldn't have to suffer the consequences of being Max and Charles' third wheel twice in twenty-four hours, Carlos hadn’t actually thought he'd be the one to take that top three spot. And yet, here he is.

Ricki telling him he'd qualified P3 had brought him an insane amount of joy — until that statement had been followed up by: "Charles P2, Verstappen P1."

And Carlos' entire world had crumbled.

Barely two minutes had passed between Carlos parking his car and climbing out of it in parc fermé, and him seeing Max and Charles yapping away, once again caught up in one of their famous debrief sessions. Even if Carlos had wanted to join in, he knows he wouldn't have been allowed to.

After all, in the world of Max and Charles, nothing and nobody else exists.

Rolling his eyes, Carlos stands idly by as he watches one of the FIA stewards come to fetch Max for his post-qualifying interview. And he watches as Charles sends him a longing look as the Dutchman unwillingly goes.

They’re pathetic, the both of them.

The Spaniard does his best to engage his teammate in conversation as Max is being interviewed, and when the two idiots swap, Carlos tries to do the same with Max. But the entire time he sees Charles gazing at Max out of the corner of his eye, pretending to pay attention to whatever Carlos is saying. Max, for his part, doesn’t even pretend to listen: merely stares at Charles like he's the only person that exists in the entire world as Carlos tries and fails to talk to him while Charles is doing his interview.

By the time Charles is dismissed and Carlos is summoned for his post-quali interview, he could have kissed the interviewer square on the lips just for giving him a break.

Because getting a break from these two is such a rare occurrence, and Carlos will grasp the opportunity with both hands.

He pretends he doesn’t see the way Max and Charles are deeply engrossed in conversation. Pretends he doesn’t understand why the hell Checo refused to put himself in this position again.

It's a goddamned miracle they've both stopped talking by the time Carlos joins them, and he has never before been so relieved for a top three photo op.

Does he notice the way Max is pulling Charles closer by the waist? Absolutely. Does he acknowledge it in any way, shape or form? Absolutely not.

And the second he feels Max let go of his waist, Carlos bolts, because it looked like it had worked for Checo after the sprint qualifying yesterday, so it clearly has to work for Carlos, too.

Except unlike Checo, Carlos will still have to suffer through a post-quali press conference. With Max and Charles. Whcih is his own personal brand of hell.

It’s every bit as awful as expected, with the Spaniard seemingly ceasing to exist entirely as the three of them wait for the press conference to start. The Monégasque and the Dutchman are, unsurprisingly, once again deeply engrossed in whatever it is they’re talking about now — Carlos has long since stopped trying to listen.

But then the press conference starts, and Carlos doesn’t know what to make of the fact that both Charles and Max are behaving. As in, not making it their lives’ mission to try and make whichever poor soul — Carlos — is forced to suffer at their hands absolutely miserable.

It catches Carlos so off-guard that he finds himself zoning out even more than he usually does. It’s unsettling as hell.

He didn't think anything could be worse than Max and Charles being, well, Max and Charles. But somehow them not being Max and Charles absolutely is.

Then, as soon as the bliss of the pair of them behaving had begun, the press conference is over, and Carlos gets up and leaves while Max and Charles are busy doing a semi-synchronized routine while picking up their stuff before they're ready to go.

Ridiculous.

He has no idea how, but despite being the first person to exit the press conference, Carlos ends up trailing behind Max and Charles on their way out of the building, as if he doesn’t even exist. Again. Because that is, apparently, the life he has been cursed to live.

The Spaniard pulls out his phone and promptly decides to ignore the 15+ new messages in the group chat.

Instead, he opens the text sent directly from Checo.

Sergio Pérez

Tequila?

Carlos Sainz

Tequila.

He keeps ignoring the group chat. And within ten minutes of him having made it back to his hotel room, there’s a knock at the door.

Carlos opens it to reveal Checo, and he has never felt more relieved to see the other man. In that moment, Checo Pérez looks like the most beautiful angel sent from God himself to save Carlos from the current horrors that is his life.

“Te amo,” Carlos says with a dreamy sigh as he stares at the bottle in Checo's hand.

The Mexican snorts and pushes his way inside.

Because if nothing else, at least the two of them can suffer together. Because shared pain is half the pain, or however the fuck the saying goes.

Chapter Text

P1.

P fucking 1. Lando can hardly believe it as he parks the car in front of the P1 sign — reserved for him — in parc fermé.

His maiden win, on this beautiful day in Miami. He does not think he has ever experienced joy like this before.

As he climbs out of his car, he sees both Max and Charles waiting for him. They congratulate him, genuine joy on their faces. Joy for him. And it doesn’t even occur to Lando that he will now have to deal with the cruellest consequence of getting a top three finish; namely having to deal with Max and Charles. He's too fucking delighted to focus on anything aside from the overwhelming pride and happiness currently surging through his body.

He's flying too high, and not even Max and Charles’ notorious way of acting like whoever it is that has to share a podium with them don’t even exist can bring him back to earth.

What feels like the entire grid takes the time to come congratulate him, and it absolutely means the world. And as he throws himself into the arms of his team, he feels like he's fucking soaring.

P1. His maiden win. What a fucking feeling.

He doesn’t notice Max and Charles yapping away somewhere behind him. Because right now, they’re the ones who don't exist in Lando’s world.

And what a wonderful fucking world it is.

***

The cool-down room is, surprisingly, not a horrible affair. There’s no Maxsplaining and Leclerifying that Lando isn’t allowed to be a part of. In fact, it’s a three-way conversation, where Lando appears to be just as interesting to the pair of them as they are to each other.

Not that he would have noticed if that wasn’t the case, just like he doesn’t notice the way Max and Charles are gazing at each other every few seconds. Because he's simply too damn happy to care.

It does, however, lull him into a false sense of security. Hell, it even tricks his mind into thinking that maybe — just maybe — Max and Charles have never really been the problem. Rather, it’s everyone else and their complete inability to deal with them in these types of situations that's the issue.

Until the podium gives him a harsh reality check.

The fact that Max and Charles don't even need words to communicate their plan brings Lando straight back to earth incredibly quickly. Because he spots Max giving Charles a look, spots Charles returning it, and he just knows.

Ah, fuck.

Is it possible to drown from champagne being sprayed directly into your face? Lando isn’t sure, but he has a feeling both Max and Charles are doing their damnedest to find out. And their synchronized attack is a cruel reminder that these two — the inevitable and the predestined — share a bond unlike any other drivers on the grid, forged through years and years of growing up together with the other person as their biggest — and possibly even only true — rival. They can communicate without words, and even if they’re not actively and deliberately excluding a third party from their conversations, their celebrations, the existence of the group chat and its cause of creation makes itself abundantly clear.

They’re like that one couple that has been together for so long that no matter how good they are at making their friends feel included, you still end up feeling like you’re missing out of some serious inside jokes whenever you’re alone with them. Like you’re on the outside looking in, even if you hold both of their attention.

It's remarkable and unsettling at the same time.

But even amidst it all, amidst really experiencing Max and Charles at their most Max and Charles, Lando's unadulterated joy at having won his very first F1 race weighs heavier than third-wheeling them ever could. And the fact that they are both so blatantly thrilled for him? He supposes there could be worse ways to be forced to deal with them.

And the fact that he's P1, effectively ensuring there will be a safe distance between the two, especially with the help of Andrea, putting two bodies between two people who seem to be pulled towards each other like magnets at any given time, definitely also helps as they pose for photos on the podium.

He chooses to remain on the podium for a bit longer than his colleagues afterwards, both because he wants to bask in the incredible feeling of being a Formula 1 race winner. He wants to make this moment last for as long as he can — wants to memorize every millisecond of this experience. He looks at the sky, looks at the fans, looks at his team, and he’s filled with such an immense amount of pride and happiness. In that moment, Lando Norris truly feels as if he’s on top of the fucking world.

And if staying on the podium for a little longer also allows him a few more minutes of being free from his role as Max and Charles’ third wheel? Well, then that’s just an added bonus.

(It’s confirmed to be an excellent decision on his part when he watches the videos of those two being fucking attached at the hip on their way down from the podium, and how they climb into the same little car that will take them to the post-race press conference, even though there were separate cars waiting for both of them.)

***

Arriving late to the press conference also means he doesn’t have to witness the way Max automatically sits in the middle of the couch because he’s so used to that being his spot, and the way Charles laughs as if that is the single most hilarious thing he has ever witnessed. Before Max and Charles, Lando honestly hadn’t thought it was possible to be that obsessed with another human being. And yet, they prove him wrong week in and week out.

As Lando takes his seat on the couch between them, Max is looking at him with the same sort of pride Oliver always looks at him with. And Charles is smiling at him as if the Monégasque is somehow personally responsible for his win today.

Say what you will about Charles and Max, and their insufferable behavior when they’re together, but the support and love they’re showing him right now? The way they’re showering him with praise? It’s almost enough to make him feel bad about his participation in the group chat.

Almost.

Until he catches Max and Charles sharing a look towards the end of the press conference, as if they’re looking straight through him. As if he, too, has ceased to exist in their presence, like so many others before him. And the guilt dissipates as quickly as it had appeared.

He makes a point out of keeping himself between them as they leave the press conference. He ensures that he matches their pace as they walk together, because he is absolutely refusing to give them a chance to subject him to the suffering Carlos and Checo had been subjected to earlier that weekend. Because Lando knows damn well that if you give either of them an inch, they’ll take a fucking mile. And he’s gotten through this whole ordeal unscathed so far. He’s not about to slip up at the finish line.

His press officer is waiting for him outside and whisks him away the second he’s within sight, and Lando barely has time to bid Max and Charles farewell. And then he’s free.

Free from the clutches of the notorious role as the Lestappen third wheel.

And if he feels almost as proud about Max and Charles seemingly being too happy for him to unleash the full force of their terrorizing ways as he does about the race win, then that’s nobody’s business but his own.

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

Carlos Sainz

Lando. That was beautiful

Sergio Pérez

I have never seen them behave so well

Lewis Hamilton

A masterful display. I’m so proud.

George Russell

And I thought the race win would be the
most impressive thing you did this weekend.

Yuki Tsunoda

👏👏👏👏👏

Zhou Guanyu

🎉🎉🎉

Daniel Ricciardo

Can’t believe you lucked out this much when
they were literally riding in that cart looking like
they’d just left their own Royal Wedding.

Fernando Alonso

The only royal thing about today was Lando
and how he dealt with them. Bravo

Alexander Albon

Lando, I have never been prouder. A race win
and showing us all how it’s done when it comes
to Max and Charles. That’s some king shit.

Logan Sargeant

Were they too happy for you to be as insufferable
as they usually are?

Lando Norris

I think so?

Logan Sargeant

Nice

Esteban Ocon

👆👆👆

Pierre Gasly

☝️☝️☝️

Esteban Ocon

@Pierre Gasly did you seriously just use a
different version of the same emoji just so
you would not use the same one I did?

Pierre Gasly

No comment

Lewis Hamilton

@Pierre Gasly @Esteban Ocon You take that
nonsense out of this chat. Today is about Lando.

Valtteri Bottas

Not bad

Lando Norris

Valtteri, I’m going to cry

Valtteri Bottas

I will take it back if you do

Lando Norris

Duly noted

Lando Norris

There will be no tears

Kevin Magnussen

Well done, Lando, for both things

Nico Hülkenberg

Impressive display, little pancake!

Oscar Piastri

@Lando Norris I think you dropped this:

Oscar Piastri

👑

Oscar Piastri

Wear it with pride

Lando Norris 👑

Well, now there are definitely tears

Valtteri Bottas

For fuck’s sake Oscar, we were this close

Oscar Piastri

🤷♂️

Chapter Text

Coming so close to P1 and just missing out sucks. Of course it does. But Lando pushed his car to the absolute limit, and he got the checkered flag less than a second behind Max, and that is a definite win in and of itself.

Could he have put more pressure on Max and possibly overtaken him had the race had two or three more laps? Possibly. But he would have still had to pass Max Emilian Verstappen in a fucking Red Bull, which is not an easy feat. And besides, the race was not two or three laps longer and therefore, dwelling on it would be a waste of time.

Like Max said in Miami: “It’s always if, if, if, right? If my mom had balls, she’d be my dad.”

Lando is happy with P2, even if he has to share yet another cooldown room, another podium, another press conference, with Max and Charles.

But, he handled it well in Miami. Surely he can handle it just as well in Italy. He has to.

Oscar will definitely force him to give the crown back if he doesn’t.

***

Parc fermé post-race is a breeze. By now Lando is so used to seeing Max and Charles deeply engrossed in conversation out of the corner of his eye whenever they’re in his vicinity that he doesn’t even notice it as he conducts his post-race interview. Hell, he’d probably be more thrown if he didn’t see Max’s flailing hands moving rapidly in front of Charles as he’s being asked the usual post-race questions.

The cooldown room also turns out to be a non-issue. Even if he doesn’t have the advantage of being the race winner and having Max and Charles be absolutely delighted on his behalf this weekend around, Max’s excitement at having such a tight battle towards the end of the race does enough to keep at least part of the Dutchman’s attention on Lando. And Checo going off into the gravel on the screen also helps keep Max somewhat occupied so he can’t focus solely on Charles. Because Lando also knows that one of the keys to surviving being top three with those two is knowing that you can’t expect too much.

You can’t go into a top three situation with Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc, and expect that you’ll succeed in keeping one of them completely focused on you the whole time because that’s simply not going to happen. It’s not possible because those two practically speak a secret language that no other driver on the grid, past, present or future, can ever hope to understand. And once you come to terms with this and adjust your approach accordingly, you’ll have a hell of an easier time than if you go into it thinking you stand a chance against the undeniable gravitational pull that exists between them.

So he watches as Checo goes off into the gravel and makes a half-hearted joke about wishing it had been Max, and feels pleased at the laughter it gets him. And he accepts that the way Max turns his head so fucking fast to look at Charles when he laughs — Christ, how does he not get a whiplash from a move that abrupt? — is inevitable, the way it pretty much always is. Because after all, the first person you look at when you laugh is usually the person you’re closest to, or the person you like the most. Or however the hell the saying goes.

‘God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference,’ Lando’s mind helpfully recites to him as it happens again, a mere few seconds later.

***

On the podium, Lando tries a new approach and targets Max with his champagne with the sole goal of keeping the Dutchman from being able to do the same to Charles. He almost chases him off the fucking podium with his efforts, and by the time Max forces him back, he’s almost out of champagne. And, just to make sure Max doesn’t use the very last of his bottle’s content on Charles in some semi-pornographic celebration, Lando chases him again, using the last of the fizz in his own bottle just to be on the safe side.

He really doesn’t want Oscar to take back the crown, okay?

‘— the courage to change the things I can.’

He suppresses a fond eye roll as Max and Charles immediately throw themselves into yet another debrief as soon as they’ve all clinked their bottles together, leaving them to it for just a moment. Just so they can get the absolute worst of it out of their systems before the photo op on the top step of the podium. Because for some reason or another, even if they’ve spoken at length less than ten minutes prior, they always find some new topic of discussion to throw themselves into at any given chance.

‘— grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.’

And he chooses to ignore the way he notices Charles’ hand resting significantly lower on Max’s lower back than what anyone else could get away with in a professional setting.

‘— and the wisdom to know the difference.’

Amen, or whatever.

***

The press conference starts off exceptionally well. It’s a threeway conversation, with Max and Charles seemingly equally interested in what he has to say before they start getting hit with questions from the interviewer. It’s not until almost ten minutes have passed that Lando is reminded of why the groupchat exists, again.

Because Charles’ first question starts with the interviewer telling him that he’s the first Ferrari driver to get on the podium at Imola since Michael Schumacher in 2006, a fact Max was apparently not aware of until that exact moment. Because he turns his head to look at Lando and although it’s an incredibly subtle look — one only a properly trained eye would be able to pick up on —, there is no denying the pride and adoration in those icy blue eyes.

Lando resists the urge to affectionately roll his eyes again as Max moves that gaze to Charles instead.

Another long stretch of minutes pass with no further incidents, and Lando is lulled into a false sense of security, much like he was at the press conference in Miami. The illusion is broken once Max starts talking about how much his back hurts from all the bumps on the track and how he might take some painkillers to deal with it, or get a massage, and the fucking look Charles sends his way — the way he smiles at a massage being mentioned, with a goddamned flush on his cheeks — is giving Lando all sorts of mental images he really doesn’t need.

This. This is why planet Carlos exists. This is why Checo and Carlos have been bonding a suspicious amount over tequila. This fucking tension that hangs in the air at the most innocent mentions and subtle expressions that the general public are blessed to not have to recognize.

And as the press conference comes to an end, Lando moves on autopilot and doesn’t allow his mind to dwell on how Max and Charles seem even more eager to get the hell out of there than they usually are.

Because he’s already landed on planet Carlos, and it is a truly beautiful place. One that almost allows him not to pick up on what Charles mumbles to Max as they walk down the hallway, half a step in front of Lando.

Almost.

Because that fucking heavily Monégasque accented English muttered ‘Maybe I’ll give you a different kind of massage, too’ and Max’s whispered ‘I should damn well hope so’ is going to haunt Lando for the rest of the year, if not for the rest of his life.

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

Oscar Piastri

So proud to have you as my teammate,
@Lando Norris

Lewis Hamilton

Another masterful display.

George Russell

Yeah, you didn’t even bat an eye at
the massage mention!

Alexander Albon

👏👏👏

Lando Norris 👑

Hey @Carlos Sainz?

Lando Norris 👑

How do you go to planet Carlos to such an
extent that your hearing DOESN’T pick up
on things they mumble to each other that
you really don’t want to hear?

Carlos Sainz

Ay ay ay, not even planet Carlos
can save you from that

Sergio Pérez

That is what the tequila is for

Lando Norris 👑

Well, fuck.

Sergio Pérez

@Carlos Sainz?

Carlos Sainz

@Sergio Pérez let’s go

Lando Norris 👑

I love you both endlessly.

Chapter Text

Alex shakes Max's hand before sitting down next to the Dutchman on the couch, and he swears he can see some kind of disappointed cloud over Max's eyes, but when he looks again, it's gone, and Max is smiling politely at Yuki, who's telling some kind of story to the others.

As he sits down, Alex tries to strike up a conversation with Max and whoever the man is talking to, but just as he's about to chime in with his own comments to the story, the Dutchman's face suddenly breaks into a huge smile. Confused as to why, Alex turns to follow Max's gaze, and his stomach drops as he discovers the reason why Max's face suddenly lights up like a fucking Christmas tree.

Charles Leclerc.

Of fucking course.

As if there was someone else whose mere presence could turn Max into a big pile of mush.

As is the case every single time Max and Charles are in the same room, the people around them seemingly cease to exist. When Charles leans forward slightly to clasp Max's hand, the Dutchman looking like fucking sunshine impersonated where he's sitting next to Alex on the couch, the Brit has to fight to resist the urge to roll his eyes.

He has to fight even harder when he glances at the Monégasque's face to see the utter glee in Max's face reflected on Charles'.

He meets George's gaze over Max and Charles' joined hands, and the Mercedes driver gives him a look. A look that can only mean one thing:

'You're absolutely fucked'.

For a brief second, Alex considers getting up and offering his seat to Charles just to put them all out of their misery. But the amused look on George's face makes him decide against it.

He won’t enable them. Not today.

So he stays rooted to the spot on the couch, and once Charles is done greeting the remaining drivers, he starts looking around for a place to sit. Alex, making a point, scoots himself closer to Max, freeing up some space to his left. Charles smiles at him gratefully, and takes the proffered seat. And Alex feels pleased with himself because surely this means Max and Charles won't be able to be as insufferable as they usually are. Not with Alex physically separating them.

Right?

Wrong.

So, so, so wrong.

Charles leans over him and immediately starts talking to Max, not even making a half-hearted attempt to include Alex in the conversation. And Max fucking eats it up, like the idiot he is.

He realizes what a huge mistake he has made a split second too late.

"I'm just going to run to the bathroom," he tells the interviewer and the group at large as he moves to get up.

"I'm afraid there’s no time," the interviewer tells him apologetically, as he looks at his watch.

Next to Max, George smirks at him. "You'll be fine, mate," his fellow Brit assures him, tone mocking and condescending.

"Yeah, you can hold it for thirty minutes," Yuki chimes in with a shit-eating grin, and Alex has never felt compelled to inflict pain the way he does now.

Max pats his shoulder sportively. "It'll be over before you know it," he says in what is probably meant to be a comforting manner.

It's anything but.

***

The start of the press conference isn't too bad. The interviewer of course starts with Charles — the hometown hero, as the man so kindly introduced the Monégasque — and asks him two or three questions before moving on to Alex himself. While answering one of the questions, however, Alex sees out of the corner of his eye that Max pulls out his cell phone, and he swears to whatever God is out there that he hears Charles' pocket vibrate a few seconds later. Fighting the urge to roll his eyes at both of them, Alex bluntly ignores the smug smile on Max's face and the amused glint in Charles' eyes, solemnly focusing on the interview and coming up with a well-crafted answer.

When it's time for Max to give his answers, Alex has to fight the urge to roll his eyes again when the interviewer asks the Dutchman a question that mentions Charles' ability to beat him in this race, Max launches into a rant about how strong Ferrari — Charles — has always been at this track and how he never doubted Charles' talents.

Oh, and McLaren too.

Alex has to admit that it was a clever move on Max's part to include McLaren in his answer in the last minute. He could already see Lando's heated face in his mind as the Brit complains to the rest of the grid that Max always forgets about him when Charles is around.

From the tone of Max's voice and the nature of the questions, Alex quickly realizes that the interviewer will soon move on to George, leaving Alex in the middle between the two bored and undistracted lovebirds, and the Brit knows he has to think fast to save himself. And his fucking dignity. So, before the interviewer finishes with Max, Alex engages Charles in conversation, rambling about everything and nothing, hoping that if the Monégasque is already talking to someone, he won't be distracted by Max, nor will the Dutchman rudely march in and take over said conversation.

It works.

But not for more than five seconds.

Because as soon as the interviewer says the words, "Moving on to George," Charles abandons all conversation with Alex and focuses solemnly on Max, both of them leaning in closer, trapping Alex in a Lestappen sandwich.

Alex sighs deeply, an awkward, uncomfortable smile plastered on his face.

This is going to be the longest press conference he has ever attended. He doesn't even get a chance to visit Planet Carlos, because Max is always yapping with either Charles on his left or George on his right, pulling Alex out of his zone every damn time.

Alex hates him.

(He doesn't really, of course.)

***

Out of all the things that could create a moment in which Alex has to use every ounce of his willpower not to roll his eyes, not to inwardly cringe at the sheer ridiculousness that is Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc with, well, Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen, he hadn’t expected it to be the question about favorite movies.

And yet, here he is: disappointed, but not surprised because what the actual fuck, Max Emilian?

Charles is talking about how, when he was ten years old, he knew the lines of Harry Potter and people were telling him he looked like Harry Potter, and Alex can’t resist chiming in with his agreement; that Charles looks like Harry Potter with glasses, because he does.

George tells them about one of the first videos he has on his phone, from 2012, when Charles had long hair. And that's what makes Max perk up.

Correction: It’s what makes Max light up like a fucking beacon. Because if there is one thing Max cannot resist, it’s the opportunity to remind everyone that nobody remembers Charles from the past as well as he does.

“You put the broomstick between your legs and you’re doing the sort of the wizard…” George trails off, only for Max to speak up.

“You're not making it any better!” he says, sounding absolutely delighted.

“Keep that video for yourself!” Charles commands.

“I would like to see that one,” the Dutchman says, sounding so genuine, so excited, that Alex just knows he's going to hound George until he shows him that video. And judging by the look George is giving him, he knows it too.

He glances at Charles then, and catches the Monégasque looking at Max with such an intense fondness that Alex feels like he's intruding on something private. Something intimate.

Yeah, not letting those two sit together was a big fucking mistake.

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

Fernando Alonso

It’s not a top 3, but Alex, are you
okay?

Oscar Piastri

I think that you had the worst seat
in the house.

Lando Norris

They trapped you on that couch,
mate

Lewis Hamilton

Don’t listen to them, Alex. You did
good.

Logan Sargeant

Did he, though?

Lewis Hamilton

Logan…

Carlos Sainz

At least he didn’t run…

Alex Albon

I knew I should have pulled an Esteban
and called in sick the SECOND I saw the
lineup for the press conference.

Alex Albon

Why didn’t I go through with it?!

Alex Albon

Also, I thought this was a SUPPORT
group

Alex Albon

I did NOT feel very supported by
some people during that press
conference

George Russell

Mate.

George Russell

It's called 'Surviving Being Top 3 With
Lestappen Support Group', Alex. Not '
Generally Existing In The Same Space
As Lestappen Support Group'.

Oscar Piastri

Yeah, for group press conferences,
you’re on your own

Alex Albon

Shut up

Alex Albon

Both of you

Esteban Ocon

Yes, leave the poor man alone

Alex Albon

You too, Esteban

Alex Albon

And you, @Yuki Tsunoda

Alex Albon

I hate you all

Yuki Tsunoda

What did I do?!

Chapter Text

People might still see him as one of the rookies in the paddock, but Logan dares to say that he is prepared for today's press conference.

The moment he saw that he was in the press conference with Yuki, Zhou, and Lestappen, he dropped everything he was doing, scrolled back to the very beginning of the group chat — or as far back as the chat would let him scroll — and started reading. He even went so far as to take notes, scribbling down tips and tricks his colleagues had given him over the past couple of years. After hours of reading and three full pages of notes — front and back — his eyes were heavy, and he could barely keep them open. Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was almost five in the morning.

Satisfied with his work and feeling the need to share it with someone, Logan opens his text thread with Alex. The Brit will probably kill him for texting him in the middle of the night, but whatever. He will deal with that tomorrow. After all, he is fucking invincible.

Logan Sargeant

I’m so fucking prepared for this press conference.

Alex Albon

Logan

Alex Albon

Why the FUCK are you awake at 5AM?!

Logan Sargeant

Preparing.

Logan Sargeant

They are NOT going to get me.

***

Spoiler alert: They do get him.

***

When Logan arrives at the press conference, he sees that Yuki, Zhou and Charles are already waiting outside the door, ready to take their places on the couch as soon as they're called. It's not hard to see that one important name is missing from the list: Max Verstappen. Now, Logan does not claim to know Max all that well, but he does know that the man is never late. Nor is he early. He is always on time — like a queen, the American can’t help but think —, so it is strange to see him not waiting with the others. Especially since he would be waiting with Charles, and Logan assumes that Max never misses an opportunity to chat with Charles if he can help it.

When a FIA official tells them it's time, Logan follows Yuki, Zhou and Charles into the room. At first, the four men casually walk over towards the couch, greeting a few reporters on their way in, but as soon as the couch comes into view, Yuki bolts to one end and practically throws himself onto it, claiming the spot in any way he can. At first Logan wonders what the hell he's doing, but when he sees Zhou, who is usually extremely calm and collected, doing the same and claiming the spot next to Yuki, the American understands what they're doing. And it doesn't look good for him.

Charles has a steady pace, heading for the couch, and Logan knows that he has one chance not to end up between Max and Charles when Max finally shows up, if he shows up at all.

He has one chance and he fucking takes it because he is prepared, damn it!

Logan picks up his pace and comes up shoulder to shoulder with Charles just as Charles is about to step onto the platform. The shoulder push Logan gives the Monégasque could have come straight out of an American football game, and if he wasn't so desperate to claim the seat next to Zhou, Logan would have felt guilty for almost knocking Charles to the ground. As he sits down and claims his spot on the couch, he feels Yuki and Zhou's eyes on him, but he decides not to look at them. He also doesn't look at Charles, who stares at Logan as he sits down, probably wondering what the fuck is wrong with him. But Logan doesn’t care, because he counts it as some sort of win that he won’t end up between Max and Charles.

A few minutes pass, but the seat on the couch next to Charles remains empty. And judging by the look on Charles' face, he’s very unhappy about it. Logan, on the other hand, doesn't feel too upset, because if he doesn't have to deal with Max and Charles in all their terrible glory, he won't get shit about it later. So it's a win-win situation for him.

Yuki and Zhou must be thinking the same thing because they have started to whisper next to him.

"Do you think he's sick?"

"Oh, I hope he's sick," Zhou answers Yuki's question.

"Fuck, please let him be sick," Logan whispers back.

"Who's sick?" Charles suddenly asks, making Logan jump slightly, thinking he had been quiet enough.

Had he briefly forgotten Charles was sitting right next to him? Possibly. Would he admit to it if asked? No chance in hell.

Out of sheer panic, the three men answer at the same time. "No one!"

Charles frowns at them, but deems it good enough as he settles back into his seat, and Logan lets out a breath, because if Charles had heard them speculating about Max being sick, they would have gotten a whole essay on how he isn't. When he looks over to his left, both Zhou and Yuki are glaring at him, and Logan quickly looks straight ahead, avoiding any eye contact.

"Maybe he's dead?"

"Max is not dead, Yuki," Zhou answers with a sigh.

Just when Logan thinks he is going to be in a staring contest with one of the reporters for the rest of the time before the press conference starts, the same FIA official comes over to the moderator to tell them that Max will be late and they can start without him.

Thank God.

The first one to answer some questions is Charles, followed by Logan himself. When he's done and Zhou takes over, he feels Charles leaning against him. Maybe he can try Oscar's trick by distracting Charles so much that he won't even notice him when Max arrives.

How wrong can someone be?

"Thinking of changing sports?" Charles whispers.

Logan frowns. "What?"

"That shoulder push?"

"Oh, that," Logan says with a nervous laugh. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to."

"It felt very intentional," Charles replies with narrowed eyes.

"I promise it wasn't."

Of course it was on purpose, but Charles doesn't need to know that. Because if he knows, then Max knows, and if Max knows, Logan is a dead man, and he's not ready to die yet.

Charles keeps looking at him. Logan keeps smiling at him, praying to whatever God is out there that it will be enough. Fortunately, after what seems like an eternity, Charles pulls away again, his eyes settling on the empty space next to him.

Logan releases the breath he was holding and tries to concentrate on the questions being asked, instead of Charles doing his best impression of an abandoned puppy sitting out in the rain next to him.

***

It turns out that Max is neither sick nor dead, because fifteen minutes into the press conference — and what must have felt like a goddamned eternity to Charles if the sulky look on his face is anything to go by — the Dutchman comes running into the room.

Out of the corner of his eye, Logan is sure he can see Zhou and Yuki fighting the urge to roll their eyes in disappointment and exasperation.

So much for hoping Max wouldn’t show at all, Logan is certain they’re all thinking as he watches as Charles’ face changes from that of a sad puppy, to that of someone who is seeing colors for the very first time. The Monégasque’s lips stretch into the sort of smile Logan has only ever seen him reserve for Max, and now he’s the one fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

Look, Logan understands that being in the presence of Max Verstappen can be mind boggling. He understands how it can leave someone with stars in their eyes, as if the mere existence of the three-time World Champion could almost rival the amazement one could feel when thinking about the existence of mankind itself. Hell, Logan used to feel exactly that the first ten or fifteen times he spent in Max's presence. But the novelty of it all passed after those first few times.

But Charles has known Max for most of his life, and has practically been right fucking next to him for the better part of the past few years. And Logan finds himself wondering how Charles Leclerc still looks at Max with the same wonder Logan himself did the very first time he ever saw Max in person.

It’s no surprise to him that Max, on the first chance he gets while Logan is answering a question, throws himself into telling Charles about how he hurt his elbow during a livestream the night before. And Charles, like the lovesick puppy he apparently is, stares at Max as if the Dutchman is reciting the most heartfelt sonnets about Charles’ general being.

And it’s at that moment that Logan makes a crushing realization: that no matter how much time he has spent preparing for this moment, it was always going to be a million times worse than anything he could have ever expected. And as he stops even trying to listen to whatever it is Max and Charles are talking about amongst themselves while the press conference goes on, but he doesn’t miss the sound of Charles’ giggle at whatever ridiculous thing it was that just came out of Max’s mouth, nor does he miss the way Max’s face lights up with pride and delight at getting that reaction from Charles for what has to be the millionth time by now.

Logan watches the pair of them out of the corner of his eye as he answers a question from the interviewer, and all he can think to himself is: ‘Yeah, okay, Max is a funny guy, Logan will admit that much. But nobody is funny enough to get that sound out of a grown-ass man, Charles.’

Even if Max was only present for about five minutes of the entire press conference, it’s more than enough. And Logan finds himself wondering how the likes of Checo, Carlos, Lewis and George have survived being subjected to the pair of them on numerous occasions over the years. Occasions in which Max and Charles have been a million times worse than they were during that press conference.

And as soon as they’re dismissed, Logan, Zhou and Yuki practically jump up in unison and bolt from the room, leaving Max and Charles trailing behind them.

Not that Logan thinks either of them noticed their three companions abandoning them the second they got the chance.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I’m relieved I’m yet to finish top three in this sport,” Logan muses as he walks with Zhou and Yuki through the hallway at a brisk pace.

“Me too,” Zhou and Yuki say in perfect sync.

And Logan finds comfort in the knowledge that at least he’s not alone in his suffering.

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

Lewis Hamilton

You know, I can’t even fault you for that press
conference, Logan, because I genuinely did not
think they would succeed in being insufferable
in such a short period of time.

George Russell

I mean, I knew they were extreme. But not that
extreme.

Sergio Pérez

I’m surprised Max actually sprinted through the
paddock to get to that press conference

Nico Hülkenberg

He sprinted through the paddock to get to Charles,
Checo

Carlos Sainz

Yeah, are you really surprised, @Sergio Pérez?

Sergio Pérez

I am no longer surprised

Logan Sargeant

Can’t believe I stayed up until 5AM trying to
prepare for this shit

Alexander Albon

I can’t believe you woke ME up at 5AM to tell
me you were preparing for this shit!

Fernando Alonso

I cannot believe you’re using ‘AM’, @Alexander
Albon

Lando Norris 👑

Yeah, since when did you become American?

Alexander Albon

How am I catching heat when I wasn’t even at
the press conference?

Oscar Piastri

I guess you’re just talented like that

Zhou Guanyu

I think you did a great job, @Logan Sargeant

Yuki Tsunoda

Me too!

Logan Sargeant

@Zhou Guanyu @Yuki Tsunoda ❤️

Yuki Tsunoda

Too bad he wasn’t dead tho

Zhou Guanyu

YUKI!

Yuki Tsunoda

What?! We were all thinking it

Logan Sargeant

Well yeah, but you said it

Oscar Piastri

Are you quoting White Chicks?

Logan Sargeant

Shut up, Oscar. I have not seen that movie

Oscar Piastri

Sure you haven’t…

Logan Sargeant

@Zhou Guanyu Can you please tell me how
good I did?

Zhou Guanyu

You did a great job, Logan

Yuki Tsunoda

I’m just saying

Yuki Tsunoda

Would have been better if he was just dead

Zhou Guanyu

YUKI

Lewis Hamilton

Yuki!

Valtteri Bottas

Hahaha Yuki

Yuki Tsunoda

🤷‍♂️

Chapter Text

"That is P3, Checo. P3."

"Did you say P3?"

Checo can't believe it. P-fucking-3. He finally did it again. He's back where he belongs — in the top 3. Finally, when it matters most, he brings it back. The happiness — the relief — that spreads through his body is insane. His heart feels like it could explode. His lungs burn with the desire to be filled with air again, and he didn't even realize he was holding his breath. His fist hits the steering wheel as he takes a deep breath.

"Fuck yeah, mate," he shouts into his radio. "We did it! We finally did it!"

"Amazing drive, mate. Well deserved," he hears in Hugh's voice that the man is smiling just as hard as he is.

"What did Max do?" Checo asks as he steers his car into the pit lane.

"Max is P1. Leclerc is P2."

And, huh —

Hearing that he's in the top three with those two doesn't bother him as much as it used to. The thought of having to deal with the two lovebirds yapping away, forgetting the rest of the world exists, effectively making Checo feel like he is invisible. would normally make him crave a shot of tequila, but not today.

Not today.

Because he is back.

Back where he damn well belongs.

Top three.

Even if it is with his lovesick teammate and his equally lovesick — whatever the fuck it is Charles is to him.

Teammate-in-law? Bane of Checo’s fucking existence?

He doesn’t even care.

Not fucking today.

***

Finishing P3 means he's first in line for the post-qualifying interviews. As he patiently answers the questions, he sees Max and Charles talking out of the corner of his eye. He sees the rapid movement of Max's hands as he explains something to Charles, and even though he can't actually see it, he knows that Charles is looking at him as the embodied version of the heart-eye emoji.

But it's not their behavior that confuses him. What is confusing is the fact that he doesn't care. He doesn't care that they're being their usual insufferable selves. He doesn't care that they're practically outing themselves on live television, for what has to be the hundredth time. He doesn't care that he has to deal with them in a minute or so.

Why the hell doesn't he care?

He doesn't know, and if he's being completely honest, he doesn't care that he doesn't know because he's finished fucking P3 and he's going to fucking enjoy it.

***

Charles rushes through his interview after Checo's, and before he knows it, the Mexican is watching Max's interview from the sidelines with the Monégasque by his side. Normally, he would dread the thought of standing next to Charles and watching Max talk, but now he doesn't. In fact, he engages Charles in deep conversation, talking about the race, the weather, anything that comes to mind, and Charles falls for it. The Monégasque enthusiastically dives into whatever they're talking about, although he still keeps an eye on Max.

Checo counts it as a win.

Even if Charles occasionally glances over at Max as if the mere distance between them hurts him.

And yet, Checo is too happy to care.

When Max rejoins them and they make their way to where their photo is being taken, Checo actually manages to keep the conversation going, and he doesn't know what he's doing, but it works, and for the first time, as the third wheel to the two lovebirds — the most dreaded duo of the entire grid —, Checo feels like he's in charge of them — in charge of the situation — and it makes him feel so damn powerful that it's overwhelming. The feeling of finally performing the way he needs to, mixed with actually being included by both Max and Charles, makes him feel so powerful that he would gladly get back in the cool-down limo in Vegas and not feel out of place for a second.

Hell, Checo would even go as far as to say he misses that cooldown limo.

Which, looking back at the footage, is saying a lot.

(He knows this is insane and that he would never for a million dollars get back in a car with these two, but you get the point).

Checo doesn't know how he does it, but when the photos are finished, Charles doesn't linger around Max. He leaves immediately and continues the conversation Charles started with him. It is only now that Checo realizes that talking to Charles is fun. Now that he's not in Max's shadow or having to deal with Love-Eye-Leclerc, he realizes that Charles is actually quite interesting to talk to. The way the Monégasque tells his stories, painting a clear picture for Checo and making him feel like he was there, is enduring, and Checo now understands why Max loves him so much.

It reminds him of Max, which, of fucking course it does. Those two are one and the same; two sides of the same coin.

Luckily, before Checo does something stupid like say that out loud, Max changes the subject to something completely different and Checo loses Charles' interest. He's back to where he always is with those two, but he refuses to let that affect his mood. Instead of trying to join the conversation, Checo just lets them be. Without looking back, he continues on his way to his driver's room, accepting the praise of his team.

Because he fucking deserves it.

***

It turns out that leaving them alone was the best decision he could have made, because when they show up for the post-qualifying press conference, Checo is already out of his race suit and changed into jeans and a shirt, while Max and Charles are still in their race suits, and judging by their flushed faces and the very present hickey on Max's neck — just underneath the collar of his race suit, which Checo only catches sight of when Max scratches the spot before the beginning of the press conference — the two continued the conversation into something that Checo is very glad not to have witnessed.

(And yet, he’d take watching Max and Charles making out in some dark corner of the paddock over getting knocked out in Q2 or Q3 any day.)

He has to resist the urge to roll his eyes when Charles is asked about the Belgian GP two years ago, and the Monégasque claims he ‘doesn’t remember’.

Checo knows he remembers. Knows damn well that Charles remembers every single thing that has to do with Max in his entire fucking racing career.

The rest of the press conference is surprisingly pleasant. There’s not a single moment in which Charles and Max zone out into their own little universe, leaving the rest of them — including Checo — on the outside looking in. He’s not entirely sure, but he has a feeling it might have something to do with the overall surprise that Charles is up there with them, and Checo finally managing to pull a proper qualifying session out of his ass after struggling for too many races in a row.

Either way, Checo is grateful, and as the press conference comes to an end, he’s shocked to have Max’s attention on him as they’re dismissed, as opposed to his attention being on Charles.

“Mate, that was such a good drive,” Max tells him as they walk out of the room, throwing an arm around his shoulder and pulling him close.

Checo blinks, unable to fully process the moment. And before he can even try, Charles appears on his other side.

“That was a masterclass display,” the Monégasque says, throwing his arm over Checo’s other shoulder and effectively trapping him in a Lestappen sandwich.

Why the fuck does that feel good for once?

“Thank you,” Checo says with a laugh, unsure of what to really do with himself as they walk down the hallway.

“I think we’re in for a Checo win tomorrow, don’t you think?” Max asks then, directing the question at Charles.

And Charles doesn’t miss a fucking beat.

“I think we might be,” he agrees, patting the Mexican’s shoulder affectionately.

And at that moment, Checo is back to where he feels he belongs; third-wheeling his teammate and his teammate-in-law.

(Yes, that’s what he’s going to start referring to Charles as in his head, thank you very much.)

Even if the two of them are talking about — praising — him.

And for some reason, for once, all feels right in the world.

Which is really fucking weird, but Checo is honestly too happy to care.

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

Lando Norris 👑

I have to say

Lando Norris 👑

Compliments to you, Checo

Lando Norris 👑

I’m almost ready to give up my crown

Oscar Piastri

Almost? What’s stopping you?

Carlos Sainz

I think he deserves it

Valtteri Bottas

☝️

Lando Norris 👑

NO

Lewis Hamilton

Lando…

Daniel Ricciardo

Lando, come on, he deserves it

Fernando Alonso

He does

Pierre Gasly

Agreed

Lando Norris 👑

NO

Sergio Perez

Keep your stupid crown

Sergio Perez

I’M P3 BITCHES

Sergio Perez

I DON’T CARE

Sergio Perez

I AM BACK

Alexander Albon

Somebody with admin access, give him the damn crown

Yuki Tsunoda

Yes

Zhou Guanyu

It’s only right

George Russell

I agree

Carlos Sainz

So, no tequila?

Sergio Pérez

Not today, compadre

Carlos Sainz

Joder

Carlos Sainz

Someone give him the fucking crown

George Russell changed Lando Norris 👑’s nickname to Lando Norris

George Russell changed Sergio Pérez’s nickname to Sergio Pérez 👑

Lewis Hamilton

Take a bow, Checo

Kevin Magnussen

Thank you, George

Esteban Ocon

Thank you George

Logan Sargeant

Noice

Nico Húlkenberg

Perfect George

Lance Stroll

👍

Lando Norris

Fuck you, George

Sergio Pérez 👑

I’M P3, BITCHES!!!!!

Sergio Pérez

How about some celebratory tequila, @Carlos Sainz?

Carlos Sainz

On my way, amor ❤️

Chapter Text

As Lando climbs out of his car in parc fermé, there’s only one thing running through his head:

‘My second race win. My second race win. My second race win.’

Fucking finally.

He’ll never be able to repay the team at McLaren for building him this rocketship of a car, because without it — without them — Lando knows he’d still be fighting through yet another season without being able to cross the checkered flag first.

He owes them everything.

As he goes to celebrate with his team, there’s only one thing that could take some of the joy out of this moment.

And it’s when he turns around to see Charles’ red Ferrari parked in front of the P3 sign that he realizes that one thing is very much a reality. Again.

Because of course it would be Max and Charles joining him on the podium for his second race win, just like they did with his first. And last time was surprisingly pleasant, because the joy they both felt on his behalf for finally getting his first race win had been so overpowering that it had practically drowned out their incessant need to be completely insufferable.

This time, though? Lando has a feeling he won’t be as lucky, without the novelty of winning an F1 race for the first time ever.

So when Oscar approaches him to congratulate him on his win, Lando can’t help himself.

“Not these bitches again,” he says to his teammate, not realizing just how loud he’s being. And definitely not realizing that Max is standing right behind him as those words leave his mouth.

And he’s too elated to notice the flash of fear in his teammates eyes, because Oscar can see Max hearing exactly what Lando has just said.

Lando, however, remains blissfully oblivious as his teammate flees from the scene.

He remains equally oblivious as Max raises an eyebrow at him, inclining his head just a little. As if he’s plotting something. And thank fuck for his obliviousness, because that sight alone probably would have been enough to make Lando retreat into his driver’s room and skip the podium altogether.

By the time the post-race interviews are done and Lando enters the cooldown room, Max and Charles are already engrossed in conversation. Hell, if Lando hadn’t known any better, it would have looked like the two of them were scheming. To Lando’s surprise, though, Max includes him in their conversation immediately, and Lando is lulled into a false sense of security. Everything feels normal. Safe. Just like it had done back in Miami. And he remains blissfully unaware of his own slip up with Oscar after the race.

But, as it is with most things, it’s a feeling that won’t last.

***

On the podium, Lando finds himself wondering if he can sue Max and Charles for attempted murder by champagne, because Jesus fucking Christ.

He manages to avoid getting the spray from Will’s bottle in his eyes, but Charles comes at him from a different angle and seems to be on a mission to make sure he gets as much of the liquid directly into Lando’s eyes as humanly possible. And by the time Max comes in with the kill, Lando is already fearing for his eyesight, and his life.

He can’t see shit.

And though he can’t see it, he can definitely hear those two fuckers laughing at him.

He wipes frantically at his eyes, but it’s useless, and he still can’t see a damn thing by the time they gather on the podium for photos. But he can feel how there’s pressure on his back in the perfect shape of a V, and he just knows Charles’ hand is curled around the back of Max’s at the base of Lando’s spine.

Leave it to Max and Charles to make the race winner feels like he’s intruding on what should be a private, intimate moment between soulmates on a fucking F1 podium, in front of one hundred thousand people.

He’s not arriving to that fucking press conference at the same time as them.

***

Repeating the success after Miami, Lando makes sure to arrive well after Max and Charles at the post-race press conference in an attempt to ensure that they get all of their yapping out of the way so he doesn’t have to sit between them and have an existential crisis like Checo did in the cooldown limo in Vegas last year. And to his immense relief, it works.

By the time he sits down between them on the white couch, Max and Charles seem to have gotten it all out of their systems and they seem eager to include him in their conversation once again. And, as it turns out, winning a race is the most efficient way to ensure Max and Charles don’t spend the entire press conference talking to each other whenever the poor third person with them is being asked questions. Instead, they just sit on either side of him and sulk quietly at not being allowed to be attached at the hip for the next fifteen to twenty minutes.

And at the end of the press conference, Lando is the first to leave, ensuring he doesn’t end up stuck between them on the way out of the building.

All in all, he’s done a damn good job of dealing with them yet again, Lando thinks to himself as he makes his way back to the McLaren motorhome.

And he is absolutely certain that the group chat will return the crown to him.

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

George Russell

George Russell
I cannot believe you let them eyefuck like this
right in front of you.

George Russell
There are children watching this, Lando.

Fernando Alonso
Pathetic

Lewis Hamilton
You might have won your second race, mate, but
you have absolutely lost your touch.

Carlos Sainz
Ay, Landito, that was not good

Lando Norris
They tried to BLIND ME

Lando Norris
With CHAMPAGNE

Lando Norris
I didn’t even see it!

Lance Stroll
Yeah, and you let them

Sergio Pérez 👑
Amateur

Oscar Piastri
Well, what did you expect? Max did hear you call
them ‘bitches’

Lando Norris
He DID WHAT?!

Oscar Piastri
He was standing right behind you, mate

Oscar Piastri
You did this to yourself

Alexander Albon 

Esteban Ocon
What is that?

Alexander Albon
An oppossum!

Esteban Ocon
Oh

Lando Norris
That doesn’t explain Charles’ attempt to murder
me!

Lando Norris
Surely he didn’t tell Charles?

Sergio Pérez 👑
He did

George Russell
He did.

Lewis Hamilton
He did.

Kevin Magnussen
He did

Yuki Tsunoda
He definitely did

Pierre Gasly
Come on, mate

Oscar Piastri
100% he told Charles

Zhou Guanyu
He did

Valtteri Bottas
Are you stupid?

Nico Hülkenberg
@Valtteri Bottas do you really need to ask?

Lando Norris
Hey!

Logan Sargeant
Of course he told Charles

Daniel Ricciardo
Charles probably used whatever weird telepathic
bond those two have to hear it live, let's be real
here

George Russell
It's a good thing you already lost the crown before
the summer break, or you would have lost it now.

Lando Norris
So…

Lando Norris
I'm not getting the crown back, then?

Sergio Pérez 👑
No

Sergio Pérez 👑
🖕

Lando Norris
Fuck

Lando Norris
Note to self: Don't call them ‘bitches’

Fernando Alonso
Not when they can fucking hear you at least

Fernando Alonso
Idiot

Lando Norris
Thanks, Fernando

Fernando Alonso
You're welcome, Lando

Lando Norris
I was being sarcastic

Fernando Alonso
I know

Fernando Alonso
😘

Chapter Text

A disappointing end to an overall disappointing weekend, with P8 for Checo and P6 for Max. But, it could have been worse, Checo reminds himself as he parks his car in parc fermé. He allows himself a moment to just sit there, taking a breather and letting his body begin to calm down from the race.

If there is nothing else he can take from today, at least he won’t be forced to third wheel Max and Charles.

Or so he thinks.

“Checo, we’ve got a code purple,” Hugh tells him over the radio.

And Checo realizes he should have just fucking jumped out of his car the second he parked after all.

Unbeknownst to him, Max is already out of his car and working on getting Charles’ attention as the race winner drives past them into parc fermé. But when he’ll see the video of that moment later, he’ll be more understanding of the urgency in Hugh’s voice.

Checo lets out what he thinks has to be the heaviest sigh he’s ever expressed.

“Copy,” he mumbles, resigning himself to his fate and begrudgingly climbing out of the car.

Max walks past him as he does, and Checo picks up the pace, taking off his helmet in a hurry and intercepting his teammate before he can get too far, running interference.

“What happened with your pitstop?” he asks his teammate. He succeeds in getting Max’s attention, who turns to face him while taking off his own helmet. And as soon as he’s free, the Dutchman throws himself into a rant about his ten second pitstop.

Checo decides right there and then that he’s going to ask for a raise for the remainder of the season. And a referral to a psychiatrist to help him deal with the emotional damage of being Max’s teammate and keeper.

As Max begins to analyze every second of his race to Checo, the Mexican thinks he’s succeeded in keeping his teammate too occupied to do what he was originally planning to do. But then Max catches the movement of someone in black and yellow out of the corner of his eye as Charles turns to walk away from his team post celebration, and Checo can see the exact moment he’s lost him.

Jesus fucking Christ.

“We have to go congratulate Charles,” Max tells him, and Checo is just tired. Done. He wants to go back to the hotel and sleep until the morning.

“Yeah, you have fun with that,” he responds, trying to weasel his way out of it. Max is having none of it, though.

“No, we have to go congratulate Charles,” the Dutchman clarifies, and he doesn’t give Checo the chance to argue as he turns around and starts walking.

“Code purple,” Hugh’s voice reminds him unhelpfully as Checo lets his feet carry him after his teammate, no matter how unwillingly.

As they walk, he watches as Max uses a hand to try and fix the hair at the back of his head. The urge to roll his eyes has never been stronger.

When they — or rather, Max — seem to catch Charles’ attention and the Monégasque begins walking towards them, Max turns to Checo, both looking and sounding like an excited kid meeting their biggest idol for the first time.

“Oh my God, here he comes!”

This time, Checo can’t resist the urge to roll his eyes.

“Idiot,” he mutters to no one but himself as he watches Charles and Max clasp hands, with Max smiling so wide, so bright, that Checo is genuinely concerned he will go blind. And even though Charles is still wearing his helmet, he can see the way those eyes scrunch up in pure happiness — or his trademark attempt at winking at Max — while he pats Max’s chest with his free hand.

Checo just knows that Max is mentally kicking himself for not putting his helmet down so he could use both hands to touch Charles, the way Charles is doing with him.

The fact that he’s actually surprised when Charles turns his attention to him, clasping his hand as Checo offers him a smile and a ‘congratulations’ is saying everything. It would honestly have been less surprising if Charles had just walked straight past him, completing ignoring his existence because he was too high off of Max smiling at him like a fucking idiot to pay attention to anything or anyone else.

And as Charles goes on his way, Checo has to physically put himself in front of Max to keep the Dutchman from following him, like the lovesick puppy he so clearly is.

“Come on, mate,” Checo says, putting a hand on Max’s chest and pushing him backwards. “Time to go.”

“But Charles —,”

“Can you believe Charles pulled off that strategy and beat the McLarens?”

That gets him Max’s attention, and the Dutchman stares at him, eyes wide and excited, before he dives into yet another Maxsplaining session, this time about Charles and how talented and amazing and wonderful he is.

Out of all his children, the fully grown-ass Dutch man is his least favorite, and the most difficult to manage.

Checo is only half-listening, throwing out a ‘uh-huh’, ‘yeah’, ‘I know’ here and there to make sure Max keeps talking.

He glances around parc fermé, and his eyes find Carlos’, who’s standing next to George, watching him and Max carefully.

The Spaniard lifts a hand, making a drinking hand gesture and raising an eyebrow.

And Checo visibly relaxes as a soft smile stretches across his lips. He gives a small nod and kisses the air in Carlos’ direction.

Carlos responds with a wink.

Next to Checo, Max is raising an eyebrow as he watches the exchange, having faded himself out of his rant and having gone completely silent. And next to Carlos, George is looking like he wants the ground to open up beneath his feet and swallow him whole.

Not that Checo notices.

Not that he would have cared, even if he did.

If anyone deserves this, it’s fucking him.

***

Max Verstappen created the group chat ‘Checo and Carlos???’

Max Verstappen added you

Max Verstappen added Daniel Ricciardo

Max Verstappen added Lando Norris

Max Verstappen added Pierre Gasly

Max Verstappen added Nico Hülkenberg

Max Verstappen added Valtteri Bottas

Max Verstappen added Fernando Alonso

Max Verstappen added Zhou Guanyu

Max Verstappen added Lewis Hamilton

Max Verstappen added Kevin Magnussen

Max Verstappen added Yuki Tsunoda

Max Verstappen added Alexander Albon

Max Verstappen added Oscar Piastri

Max Verstappen added Esteban Ocon

Max Verstappen added Lance Stroll

Max Verstappen
Hello

Max Verstappen
Shit, wait

Max Verstappen added Logan Sargeant

Max Verstappen
Hello

Max Verstappen
Anyone know what’s up with those two?

Max Verstappen
They’re being weird

Charles Leclerc
It’s actually getting a bit embarrassing

Valtteri Bottas left the chat

Fernando Alonso left the chat

Zhou Guanyu left the chat

Daniel Ricciardo is typing…

Lewis Hamilton left the chat

Kevin Magnussen left the chat

Nico Hülkenberg left the chat

Daniel Ricciardo is typing…

Lance Stroll left the chat

Esteban Ocon left the chat

Yuki Tsunoda left the chat

Daniel Ricciardo is typing…

Daniel Ricciardo left the chat

Pierre Gasly is typing…

Alexander Albon left the chat

Logan Sargeant left the chat

Oscar Piastri left the chat

Pierre Gasly is typing…

Lando Norris left the chat

Pierre Gasly left the chat

Max Verstappen
What did I say wrong???

Charles Leclerc
Nothing, babe, you’re perfect 😘

You have left the chat

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

George Russell

Sergio Pérez
Uhm George? What is that?

Carlos Sainz
??????????????????

Oscar Piastri
Nicely done, George

Lewis Hamilton
You couldn’t have done a better job with the cropping there,
George?

George Russell
Ahhh, sugar!

Alexander Albon
Bet you weren’t forecast for that fuck-up, were you, George?

Carlos Sainz
Can somebody explain what the FUCK IS GOING ON?????

Sergio Pérez
👆👆👆

Valtteri Bottas
Good luck, George.

Chapter Text

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestrappen Support Group

Alexander Albon

That is the most underwhelming top 3 moment
I’ve ever seen.

Liam Lawson

Having read through this entire group, I must say
I agree. I feel cheated.

Lewis Hamilton

I would like to know who authorized no top 3 photo
op after sprint qualis, and only the pole sitter being
interviewed.

Oscar Piastri

This is an injustice

Fernando Alonso

It is no fun when nobody has to suffer

Lewis Hamilton

That’s an unhinged thing to say, even for you, Fernando.

Yuki Tsunoda

I agree with Fernando

Liam Lawson

Yuki, you’re 159 cm of pure chaos. Of course you agree with Fernando

Yuki Tsunoda

Thank you!

Lando Norris

Don’t think that was a compliment, mate

Yuki Tsunoda

Yes it was

George Russell

Am I not going to get any credit for handling
Max and Charles?!

Oscar Piastri

Credit for what, George?

Kevin Magnussen

Our apologies, George

Kevin Magnussen

Well done for doing fuck all

Valtteri Bottas

Would you like a medal?

Nico Hülkenberg

A participation trophy, perhaps?

George Russell

I think you are all being unreasonably mean.

Esteban Ocon

I do not think we are being mean enough

Franco Colapinto

Agree with Esteban

Fernando Alonso

Franco you are barely out of the womb. You don’t get a say yet

Lance Stroll

☝️

Zhou Guanyu

Ouch

Franco Colapinto

Noted

Pierre Gasly

A bit harsh Fernando

Fernando Alonso

It’s the only way they will learn

Lewis Hamilton

Fernando is right, Pierre.

George Russell

Has anyone checked on Checo?

Oscar Piastri

Yeah, he’s being awfully quiet

Lando Norris

I did see him staring off into the distance in parc fermé, looking upset

Lewis Hamilton

Can you blame him? With all the things those two have
put him through, watching George not even have to stand
next to them after being top 3 must be a tough pill to swallow

Alexander Albon

@Sergio Pérez, are you okay?

Carlos Sainz

He’s coping, give him a minute

George Russell

Are you with him?

Carlos Sainz

Si

Carlos Sainz

He says “go to hell, George”

George Russell

Ah, well, at least he seems like himself.

Sergio Pérez 👑

@George Russell 🖕

Fernando Alonso

If nobody suffers tomorrow or on Sunday, I will make
sure someone does myself

Fernando Alonso

You have all been warned

Liam Lawson

Is it too late to give up my seat?

Chapter Text

The relief of finally being back on the podium is enough to dampen, but not eradicate, the underlying dread Carlos feels upon being told by Ricky that Max is P3 due to Lando getting a five-second penalty at the end of the race. He knows damn well that Charles is P1, and he also knows that being P2 when Max is P3 means for him.

And as Carlos gets out of his car in parc fermé, he’s mentally preparing himself for a trip back to planet Carlos.

He watches Charles have his well-deserved moment with the team, and doesn’t approach them until his teammate has made his way towards the scale, which just so happens to be right next to where Max is standing.

‘Here we go,’ the Spaniard thinks to himself, allowing himself a moment of tranquility in the presence of his team. He’s prepared to bare witness to the yap fest of all yap fest upon turning back around, taking a deep breath to steel himself —

— only for his eyes to settle on Max standing next to Checo, of all people, yapping away by his P3 table. Checo, who’s not even on the podium and yet, who has gone out of his way to approach his teammate, effectively keeping Max too occupied to glue himself to Charles’ side immediately.

Carlos blinks at the Mexican, feeling something warm and appreciative spreading through his chest and settling in the pit of his stomach. It may or may not feel an awful lot like butterflies.

But, not even Checo can keep his teammate in line indefinitely, and as soon as Max catches a lull in their conversation, he excuses himself, turns around, and heads straight for Charles. And Carlos watches them clasp hands before launching themselves headfirst into one of their famous debriefs.

He looks from them to Checo, who lifts his shoulders in a shrug and mouths ‘I tried’.

And Carlos, touched by the other man’s efforts, offers him a smile that is softer and more genuine than he ever remembers producing in the past.

‘Thank you,’ he mouths back. Checo smiles back at him and nods.

It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for him.

It catches Carlos by surprise that, upon being summoned for his post-race interview with Jenson, that Max goes to talk to his team instead of attaching himself to Charles’ hip like he normally would. It’s suspicious and unsettling, and Carlos will be damned if he lets himself be lured into a false sense of security once again with these two, only to be bamboozled in the cooldown room or on the podium. So he keeps his guard up, refusing to allow himself to be made into a fool.

Especially when Checo has gone through great lengths to help him out, despite being the one person on the grid who has had to suffer due to Max and Charles more than anyone else.

He will not let Checo’s efforts be for nothing.

***

It always helps having either Max or Charles in P1, because that means that one of them will be joining them in the cooldown room far later than the other. This time, it allows Carlos plenty of time to engage Max in conversation, using every bit of knowledge he has garnered over the years, both as teammates and as competitors, on what to say to get Max talking. And Max, bless him, does not disappoint.

Once Charles finally does join them, stating how the hard tyres were more difficult to drive on than the mediums, Carlos immediately voices his agreement before Max can, asserting himself as an equal part of what he is sure would have been yet another episode of the Max and Charles podcast had he not been vigilant. And he keeps talking, making it impossible for either man to ignore him, his presence and his contribution to the conversation.

It works like a fucking charm, and Carlos is full of pride over his own efforts as he successfully ensures the cooldown room is a three-person conversation from start to finish.

This is, after all, not his first rodeo.

He counts it as a win, and decides not to acknowledge the way Charles turns his head to smile at Max repeatedly, while not once obtaining eye contact with Carlos.

***

The podium starts off well, and Carlos finds himself thinking his efforts in the cooldown room has reminded them both that he, too, is a participant in the post-race celebrations. But then Max and Charles begin yapping while standing on the podium after Charles has been presented with his medal — which is a new low, even for them — and the Spaniard realizes that he can’t let his guard down.

Not yet.

Once they’ve popped the champagne and Charles unsurprisingly goes straight for Ravin, Carlos takes the opportunity to focus on Max, for no other reason than to ensure he stays away from Charles for as long as humanly possible. It works for approximately twenty seconds, until Max probably realizes that he has been away from Carlos’ idiot teammate for too long and goes to approach him as soon as he and Carlos have bumped their bottles together. But he also makes sure to insert himself into the moment quickly, as does Ravin, effectively keeping both Charles and Max at bay.

When he watches Max walk off the podium before the rest of them, Carlos knows he has successfully handled yet another top three moment with the notorious duo that is Lestappen.

If George doesn’t give him the crown, or allow him to share it with Checo, Carlos is going to riot.

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

Lewis Hamilton

Carlos, you handled them beautifully.

George Russell

I am inclined to agree.

Oscar Piastri

Same

Alexander Albon

Can’t believe Checo came to help you. What kind of weird bond do you guys have?

Sergio Pérez 👑

That is none of your business

Nico Hülkenberg

There’s nothing like trauma bonding over tequila

Carlos Sainz

☝️☝️☝️

Valtteri Bottas

Only the press conference to go. Don’t fuck it up

Fernando Alonso

No, please fuck it up

Yuki Tsunoda

I’m with Fernando

Liam Lawson

Of course you are, you little chaos gremlin

Sergio Pérez 👑

Good luck, Carlos

Carlos Sainz

❤️

***

Once they’re all settled on the couch in the post-race press conference, Carlos can’t help but notice that Max is sitting unnecessarily close to Charles. But as long as that’s the worst of it, Carlos is certain he can deal with it.

When Charles rests his arm on the back of the couch and leans his body in Max’s direction, putting even less distance between them, he has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. But, as long as that’s the worst of it, Carlos will be fine.

When Max is asked about turn one in the first lap and says that it worked out quite well for him, despite the fact that he still ended up second as Charles took advantage and pulled away, Carlos just knows that if it had been anyone else who took the lead from him in that turn, Max would have had a very different response. He resists the urge to roll his eyes, again, because if this is as bad as it’s going to get, he’s not going to bitch about it.

Lady Luck, as it turns out, is not on Carlos’ side because it does get worse.

Charles gets a question about the different plans the team had lined up, and Carlos just knows which direction it’s going before the reporter even drops Max’s name. And that’s when he chooses self-preservation.

He zones out and goes to Planet Carlos the second Max throws himself into the conversation and tells Charles to answer the question with ‘yes’. He remains there even as he answers the last few questions that are thrown his way, his mouth working on autopilot.

When Max shares his opinion about the bumpy parts of the Austin circuit, Carlos sees the look on Max’s face, sees that stupid fucking Max smile of his and Max’s smug expression at having made Charles laugh, and decides to stay on Planet Carlos right up until he makes it back to his driver’s room.

He’s so zoned out that when Charles and Max get up with the sort of synchronization only two people who share some sort of weird telepathic connection, Carlos remains seated, having not registered that they’ve been dismissed.

Planet Carlos is a beautiful place, and Carlos realizes just how much he has missed it.

Not so much the situations that keep sending him there, but still. Small price to pay and all that.

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

Fernando Alonso

There we go

George Russell

I really thought they were going to go easy on you.

Oscar Piastri

Did you go to planet Carlos?

Kevin Magnussen

Of course he did

Lewis Hamilton

Kind of a pointless question, Oscar. I’m pretty sure
he’s still there.

Lance Stroll

And will be staying a while

Franco Colapinto

What the fuck is a planet Carlos????????

Liam Lawson

I second that question?

Sergio Pérez 👑

@Carlos Sainz Tequila?

Carlos Sainz

Tequila

Sergio Pérez 👑

Be right there

Liam Lawson

Tequila??????

Franco Colapinto

????????????????????????

George Russell

Oh, I’ve been waiting for this!

George Russell

[File attached: A Guide To Lestappen And The Group Chat.ppt]

Liam Lawson

George, this has 136 slides?!

George Russell

You’re welcome.

Franco Colapinto

Can we get a summary?

Fernando Alonso

No. You read George’s powerpoint.

George Russell

Awww, thank you, Fernando!

Fernando Alonso

Not a compliment, George. It’s their turn to suffer

George Russell

😔

Franco Colapinto

I want to go home

Chapter Text

It is no secret that media duties are no F1 driver’s favorite part of their careers, but they all understand that it is a necessary evil. And Guanyu Zhou is no exception to this rule.

When the new format of the Thursday press conferences for the 2024 season was announced, he was relieved because with there only being three drivers in attendance for each of the two driver’s press conferences means fewer appearances for them all.

But, there is also a very obvious downside to the new format: with there only being three drivers present for each Thursday press conference, there is also the very real risk that some poor soul will get stuck with Max and Charles.

It’s a nightmare scenario that is yet to happen, thankfully, but the possibility of that becoming a reality is always there. And that means that each time Zhou gets scheduled for a Thursday press conference, his heart is in his throat as he waits to find out who will be joining him for it.

He almost had a heart attack when he found out Charles would be in the Thursday press conference ahead of the Mexican Grand Prix. But, thankfully, the third person turned out to be Fernando and not Max.

Phew. Crisis averted.

He’s surprised when he walks in to see Felipe Drugovich instead of Fernando Alonso, and quickly learns that he’s standing in due to Fernando being ill. It’s not a bad surprise because Felipe is a great guy, and Zhou cannot help but feel excited for the other man’s behalf. Attending a Thursday press conference ahead of a F1 Grand Prix weekend is, after all, quite a big deal.

He also finds himself thanking whichever lucky star is looking out for the kid that Fernando hadn’t been scheduled to appear with Charles and Max today.

That would have been the most cruel fate that could have befallen him.

As they get started, Zhou is so focused on his relief of only having gotten stuck in a press conference with one half of Lestappen as he engages Charles in pleasant conversation, that it doesn’t even occur to him that Charles can still somehow find a way to give him a taste of what third wheeling Lestappen feels like, no matter how small.

Charles gets asked about racing against Max and how he goes about doing it-

It’s an accident, he knows — whether it’s Charles mixing up the words somewhere between his brain and his mouth, or if it’s just the Monégasque slipping him and catching himself at the very last moment, he isn’t sure. But he still hears it, clear as fucking day.

“I mean, Max has always been on the limit of regulations, but that’s what makes racing my — Max — so exciting…”

Zhou stops listening to the rest of the words coming out of Charles’ mouth at that exact moment, because what the actual fuck did he just say?

‘My Max.’ ‘My Max’. ‘My Max’?!

It’s a good thing he doesn’t get asked another question because Zhou is pretty sure he has just gone on his very first visit to Planet Carlos.

And he can definitely see the appeal because it’s an incredibly peaceful place.

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

Zhou Guanyu

Guys

Zhou Guanyu

Charles said “my Max” in the press conference

George Russell

He did what?!

Carlos Sainz

No way

Lewis Hamilton

You are not serious?

Fernando Alonso

LOL

Yuki Tsunoda

????????????????

Zhou Guanyu

I swear he did

Zhou Guanyu

It was an accident one way or another

Zhou Guanyu

But he definitely said it

Pierre Gasly

How is it possible that he has gotten worse?

Oscar Piastri

Max wasn’t even there!

Alexander Albon

They are becoming too powerful. Making us third wheel even when only one
of them is present

George Russell

We have reached a new low, even for them.

George Russell

I genuinely did not think it was possible.

Lando Norris

Is it bad that I don’t even want to risk getting points this weekend?

Kevin Magnussen

I can take you out, Lando?

Nico Hülkenberg

Kevin, stop making threats

Kevin Magnussen

It was an offer, not a threat

Lando Norris

I might take you up on that, Kev

Lewis Hamilton

Has anyone checked on Felipe?

Fernando Alonso

He’s fine

Lance Stroll

Yeah, he’s clueless. He was too excited to be there to even be listening
to a word anyone else was saying

Valtteri Bottas

Ah, to be young and stupid…

Valtteri Bottas

@Franco Colapinto @Liam Lawson

Liam Lawson

Was the tag really necessary, Valtteri?

Valtteri Bottas

Absolutely.

Franco Colapinto

:(

Esteban Ocon

@Zhou Guanyu control your teammate

Zhou Guanyu

We both know there is no controlling Valtteri

Valtteri Bottas

😁

Sergio Pérez 👑

What is it with triple headers that make these two even more unhinged?!

Sergio Pérez 👑

I just want a peaceful, fun race weekend at home

Sergio Pérez 👑

It’s MY home race

Sergio Pérez 👑

Why can I never have nice things

Sergio Pérez 👑

Why do they have to be like this?!

George Russell

You know, Checo, if we really think about it, this might just be Charles getting
back at you for that ‘Best Couple’ award you and Max received earlier.

Oscar Piastri

Oh shit.

Alexander Albon

That’s it! That’s the reason!

Carlos Sainz

We do not blame Checo for their behavior

Fernando Alonso

We do now!

Zhou Guanyu

Ah, Checo…

Sergio Pérez 👑

Puta madre

Sergio Pérez 👑

This weekend is going to be hell on earth isn’t it?

Lewis Hamilton

Afraid so, mate.

Lewis Hamilton

Buckle up, everyone.

Carlos Sainz

I’ll have the tequila ready

Chapter Text

Regret is not a familiar feeling for Pierre Gasly. In fact, he goes to great lengths to never regret the choices he makes, or the consequences that follow because of them. After all, regret will get you nowhere; it doesn’t change anything, and it sure as hell doesn’t give you the opportunity to go back in time and change what has already been done. As it is, you only get one life, and there is no point in wasting any of that time on regretting the things that cannot be changed.

And yet, if Pierre will admit to having one regret in life, it’s the fact that he stopped actually paying attention to George’s PowerPoint after the 65th slide, and skimmed through the rest of them — both the original version, and the updated version George had crafted for them following the 2023 season.

Because as he stands next to Charles, one of his oldest and dearest friends, waiting for the drivers parade ahead of the 2024 São Paulo Grand Prix to get underway, he is not at all prepared for what happens when Max suddenly appears in front of them.

His hand, which had been clasped in Charles’ in a familiar greeting, gets dropped as if the touch has burned the Monégasque. Charles yanks his hand away so fast that Pierre barely has time to register what is happening before he watches as Charles clasps Max’s hand instead, his whole face lighting up at the sight of the Dutchman.

Pierre is only barely able to stop his eyes from rolling, and instead catches Checo’s eyes from somewhere behind Charles. He gives the Mexican a brief gaze that can only be described as pleading, silently begging him for a lifeline, which earns him nothing but a shrug of Checo’s shoulders in return — a silent ‘They’re your problem now’ if there ever was one.

Swallowing down the urge to sigh, Pierre turns back to the yapping pair, hoping it won’t be too awful. Surely, having grown up with them both, racing alongside them since they were practically kids, will mean they’ll bring him into the conversation, right? But when Charles barely taps his fist in a casual greeting again as if Pierre has just arrived before turning back to Max, Pierre realizes he’s been sidelined.

With all his experience having had to deal with Charles and Max, especially before, during or after drivers parades, Pierre finds himself feeling embarrassed at how horribly prepared he is.

And he finds himself thinking, once again, that he really should have paid more attention to George’s PowerPoint. He’d been too cocky, too sure he didn’t need it because, well, he knows Charles, doesn't he? Turns out he doesn't — not in Max Verstappen's orbit, anyway. Now, without any inside tips or strategies, Pierre flounders, trying to recall what others did when they were caught between them, only to quickly realize none of those moves will save him here.

Then Pierre does the only thing that makes sense: he gives up.

He’ll blame the chaos of the weekend, if anyone tries to call him out on it.

At one point, Nico comes to join them, and Max’s bond with the German is somehow enough to keep him and Charles from acting completely insufferable. Nico is a godsend, Pierre finds himself thinking — especially when Charles leaves their small group moments later and Checo comes to replace him, effectively keeping Max from doing something really stupid; like following the Monégasque like the lovesick puppy he has always been.

And for a short, foolish second, Pierre thinks he’s in the clear; that the brief moment he had to suffer through with Max and Charles was the extent of his torture for today.

Which, of course, turns out to be the exact opposite of what is actually the case.

***

Once it’s time to actually go outside for the drivers’ parade, Pierre somehow thinks he’s dodged a bullet. He’d been grouped together with Max, Checo and Nico upon being told it was time to go, with no Charles in sight. And yet, somehow, his idiot friend seems to use his weird, Max specific spidey senses to seek Max out and appear at the Dutchman’s side in a heartbeat as soon as the drivers begin filing out from the garage. And Pierre, through no fault of his own, ends up stuck behind them as they make their way to the bus.

Unsurprisingly, Max and Charles yap the whole way there. It’s ridiculous because as soon as those two are within earshot of each other, the entire world ceases to exist around them. It’s as if they retreat into some invisible bubble where it’s just the two of them, and nobody else is allowed entry. And this time, as he follows Max and Charles up the steps, he can’t help himself; he rolls his eyes and stares at them with the kind of exasperation and hopelessness only they can instill in him.

He has no idea why he chooses to stand next to them on the bus. In fact, that is probably the single most stupid idea he has ever had because why would he prolong his own suffering like this?

But then, to his big surprise, just as he’s about to give up completely and leave them to it, Max turns to him.

“You’re really good in wet conditions,” the Dutchman says, stating it like a fact. And the compliment roots Pierre to the spot.

“Thank you,” he eventually manages to say in response.

“If you get the strategy right for the race, you could end up on the podium. Esteban, too,” Max goes on.

And Pierre, unsure of what else to do, just nods. Then, Max goes back to what can only be classified as scheming with Charles, but makes a conscious effort to make sure Pierre is included every now and again. And the consideration moves Pierre to such an extent that he can’t bring himself to leave, even though he should.

But he does know what he needs to do the second the parade is over.

He needs to go find Esteban, because Max is absolutely right. And if the two of them somehow manage to secure a podium, there’s only space for one other person.

Judging by the look in Max’s eyes since qualifying, there is a pretty big chance that person will be him. Even if he’s starting from P17.

Because if anyone can pull off the drive of a lifetime on this track, in these conditions, it’s Max Emilian Verstappen. And that means Pierre and Esteban must do whatever they can to keep Charles off that podium.

***

Max was right. Max was fucking right.

They nailed their strategy, lucked out with a perfectly timed red flag and still managed to pull off an incredible drive in terrible conditions.

And now, here they are: him and Esteban, P3 and P2, for the 2024 São Paulo Grand Prix.

When Pierre steps into the cooldown room right behind Esteban, he finds Max already there, sitting confidently in the P1 seat, as he should.

"You're used to this," Esteban quips to Max. Pierre doesn’t hear a reply from the Dutchman, but he can just picture Max’s face split in a triumphant grin.

Setting down his own trophy, Pierre strides over to Max with a laugh. "Ai, ai, ai, ai," he exclaims, clasping hands with him. "Mate, what the fuck?!"

Max only grins wider, gripping Pierre’s hand with surprising intensity, as if he never wants to let go. Pierre suddenly wonders if this is what Max does with Charles all the time, because it feels oddly... Nice. It’s unexpectedly reassuring, like Max is telling him through that single handshake that he belongs here.

It’s strangely... comforting.

Not wanting to get swept up in Max's charm like Charles did years ago, Pierre quickly breaks eye contact and takes his seat. Luckily, the race recap starts playing on the screen, giving him something else to focus on. As expected, Max dives into his usual Maxsplaining of his moves on the track.

“Mate, after just ten laps you were on my back,” Esteban says in amazement, and Pierre can’t help but nod in agreement. Like him or not, Max’s performance was undeniably impressive. One for the history books, just like his recovery drive at this very track back in 2016.

"Yeah, I got past three or four cars at the start," Max begins, but the replay of Checo’s spin pops up, and he adds: "Didn’t even see Checo — I had no idea..."

Pierre relaxes a little, letting Max ramble. So far, they’ve managed to keep Charles out of the conversation, sticking to the plan of keeping him off the podium. There’s no reason for Charles to come up now, so maybe they’ll get through this unscathed —

And then it happens.

“I got held up there,” Max says, pointing at the screen where his battle with Charles is playing.

Oh, no…

“Charles was actually pretty decent —,”

Pierre clears his throat, sharp and pointed. Max turns, catching Pierre’s raised eyebrows — a silent warning to steer clear of Charles. And shockingly… It works? Max just closes his mouth, redirects his gaze to the screen, and says nothing more about Charles.

What the fuck?

Stunned by his own success, Pierre stares at the back of Max’s head, completely forgetting about the race recap.

What the actual fuck?!

***

The podium celebrations feel like a fever dream, and Pierre would have never expected he would be able to experience joy like this at the end of today’s race. And even getting to share it with his teammate, with whom Pierre’s relationship hasn’t exactly been stellar adds a surprising amount of glee to it all.

The champagne showers feel better than almost anything Pierre has experienced so far, and the excitement between the three of them on the podium is so pure, so genuine, that nothing else matters. Not in that moment — a moment Pierre never wants to end.

But, as with all good things, this too must come to an end.

Soaked from the champagne, ears still ringing from the cheers of the crowd, Pierre makes his way back to the cooldown room. The grin on his face hasn't left since he crossed the finish line in P3; his cheeks are numb, but he doesn't care.

He's P3. P-fucking-3.

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

Pierre Gasly

DID YOU SEE THE COOLDOWN ROOM?

Lewis Hamilton

Firstly, congrats to both of you. Well done.

Good race.

Lewis Hamilton

Secondly, no, we haven't. We weren't

there, remember?

Pierre Gasly

GO WATCH IT

Pierre Gasly

NOW

Pierre Gasly

[Link attached]

Esteban Ocon

He’s not wrong, you must watch it

Nico Hülkenberg

Did I miss hell freezing over? Esteban agreeing
with Pierre?

Alexander Albon

Hush Nico, not the time.

Nico Hülkenberg

Fair enough.

Carlos Sainz

Wow, Pierre that was incredible

Carlos Sainz

When I saw you with them during the parade, I
was sure you would pay a visit to Planet Carlos

Fernando Alonso

Pierre, Esteban, congratulations. The race was
almost as masterful as that cooldown room

Pierre Gasly

RIGHT????

Esteban Ocon

THANK YOU!

George Russell

I am so impressed by you both today. Congratulations.

George Russell

And Pierre, that was outstanding.

Yuki Tsunoda

Well deserved podium for you both!

Lance Stroll

👏👏👏👏

Franco Colapinto

👏👏👏👏👏👏👏

Zhou Guanyu

I am so impressed

Valtteri Bottas

👍👍

Lewis Hamilton

Wow, two thumbs up, Valtteri?

Valtteri Bottas

One for each of them. It is deserved

Liam Lawson

Wow, Pierre, how?

Pierre Gasly

I have years of experience with Charles,

mate. I just know

Sergio Pérez 👑

One look

Sergio Pérez 👑

🙂

Carlos Sainz

Checo…

Sergio Pérez 👑

ONE FUCKING LOOK?????

Sergio Pérez 👑

🙃🙃🙃

Sergio Pérez 👑

YOU SHUT HIM UP WITH ONE

Sergio Pérez 👑

FUCKING

Sergio Pérez 👑

LOOK

Sergio Pérez 👑

????????!!!!!!!!!!!

George Russell

Oh no, we’re losing him.

Fernando Alonso

Checo, amigo, ¿estás bien?

Lewis Hamilton

It doesn't seem like he's okay…

Carlos Sainz

His eye is doing this weird twitching thing…

Carlos Sainz

Do I need to call a doctor?

Sergio Pérez 👑

PIERRE JEAN-JACQUES GASLY

Esteban Ocon

Oh shit

Oscar Piastri

Run, mate

Sergio Pérez 👑

YOU WILL TEACH ME HOW TO DO THAT

Pierre Gasly

Yes, of course, Checo! First thing next race weekend,
I promise!

Sergio Pérez 👑

YOU WILL TEACH ME RIGHT THE FUCK NOW

Pierre Gasly

Huh???

Sergio Pérez 👑

I AM ON MY WAY TO YOUR HOTEL ROOM AS WE SPEAK

Lewis Hamilton

Carlos, maybe you should step in here?

Carlos Sainz

Too late, mate, he already got away. He’s fast when
he’s pissed

Sergio Pérez 👑

YOU BETTER BE READY, GASLY

Pierre Gasly

🫡

Chapter Text

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

George Russell

Oh wow, Ferrari and Red Bull paired up for
the fanstage for the first time ever.

Lewis Hamilton

Ouch.

Oscar Piastri

There should be a law against that

Lando Norris

👆

Nico Hülkenberg

Tough break, @Carlos Sainz @Sergio Pérez

Alexander Albon

Which Gods did you two piss off?

Sergio Pérez 👑

Apparently all of them

Yuki Tsunoda

Hahahahaha

Fernando Alonso

What Yuki said 😂

Zhou Guanyu

That's just rude

Kevin Magnussen

Yeah, have some class, guys

Fernando Alonso

No thank you 😁

Franco Colapinto

Come on it’s on a public stage

Franco Colapinto

They can't be that bad

Liam Lawson

Even I know that’s utter bullshit, Franco

Lewis Hamilton

Oh Franco…

Sergio Pérez 👑

Franco I swear to God if you have jinxed this…

Carlos Sainz

No

Carlos Sainz

Not today, Satan

Carlos Sainz

Not FUCKING today

George Russell

Well, all I can say is this: Good luck, boys.

***

When Carlos woke up today, he had not expected that the universe would be laughing at him. And yet, here he is, faced with the ungodly task of having to share a fanstage with Max and Charles in Las Vegas, of all places.

(And Checo, but he is excluded from that particular narrative for obvious reasons.)

But, as it turns out, the universe has picked the wrong fucking day to mess with him because today, Carlos woke up and chose violence. And he will put heaven, earth and fucking hell in motion to ensure that the supreme idiots that is his own teammate and his teammate’s fucking soulmate or whatever will not make a fool of him and Checo.

Because today, Carlos is a man on a mission, and he will stop at nothing to see it through.

He deserves it. Checo deserves it. And Carlos Sainz Vazquez de Castro Cenamor Rincón Rebollo Birto Moreno de Aranda de Anteriuga Tiapera Deltun will make damn sure they both get it.

***

Granted, Carlos’ mission isn’t off to a great start because as they step out onto the stage, Charles somehow manages to get away from him. And, with Max and Checo already waiting on the stage, Carlos is powerless to stop the beeline his teammate makes for Max. But, it turns out to be a blessing in disguise because Charles being the first to greet Max and Checo also means he has to take a small step back to allow Carlos to do the same when he comes to join them. Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Carlos takes advantage and, upon finishing the handshakes with the Red Bull drivers, steps back to position himself directly between Max and Charles.

He catches the slight look of surprise on his teammate’s face, but feels pleased with the fact that Charles can’t exactly do anything about it without making a complete fool of himself.

It sets the tone for the rest of the ordeal, and ensures that Max and Charles are kept from doing a vital part of what makes their fellow drivers suffer in their presence: yap.

Despite the fact that his spot between Max and Charles also makes him the unfortunate victim of bearing witness to how the two of them are clearly eyefucking every few seconds as they stand on that stage — Carlos is but a man, after all —, it is at the very least an excellent execution of damage limitation.

He ignores the way Max fucking leans forward to look past him at Charles when his teammate is speaking, choosing to pretend the movement doesn’t register in his peripheral vision. And when Max tells an incredibly terrible joke that has Charles giggling as if it’s the single funniest thing that has ever been said in the history of mankind, Carlos briefly considers taking a little trip to Planet Carlos. But then he glances at Checo, who is putting on the judgmental stare of the century as he looks at Charles laughing at something not even remotely funny his own teammate just said, and quickly decides against it.

He is not leaving Checo to fend for himself. Not here. Not now. Not with them,

Not again.

So he remains mentally present in the moment, dedicated to his mission and hoping to whatever God is listening that he will somehow reap the benefits of it sometime soon.

To his immense surprise, somebody must be watching him and taking pity on him for once in his miserable Lestappen third-wheeling life, because Max’s microphone stops working when the Dutchman is in the middle of answering a question. And Carlos sees his chance to hand out some much needed, much deserved justice.

He holds his own microphone in front of Max, nodding firmly when the other man asks him if he can hold it. He can feel Checo looking at him, can see the Mexican smiling at him in that oh-so-confused way of his out of the corner of his eye as Max returns to answering the question he had been asked.

Then, in true ‘giving into your intrusive thoughts’ fashion, Carlos lifts the microphone and smacks it against Max’s mouth and nose. Just because he can.

The laughter that erupts all around him, including from Carlos himself, is enough to make this entire ordeal worth it. Because finally — fucking finally — at least one part of the most insufferable duo on the entire grid has been punished, no matter how small or how subtle, for the crimes they have committed against so many drivers on the grid over the years.

The event comes to an end and the four drivers are dismissed. Not about to let Max and Charles make neither him nor Checo suffer after Carlos has successfully run interference on that stage, he grabs Charles’ arm the second they get off the stage and begins dragging him away from Max and Checo.

“Wait, Carlos —,” his teammate begins to protest, looking back at the Red Bull drivers over his shoulders.

The Spaniard refuses to relent, tightening his hold on Charles’ arm and pulling him along with even more force.

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’. “Fred wanted us back at the motorhome immediately. Come on.”

It’s a complete lie, but Charles doesn’t need to know that as he stops struggling and allows his teammate to pull him further and further away from Max and Checo.

It’s an outright win if Carlos has ever seen one.

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

Lewis Hamilton

Bravo, @Carlos Sainz.

Oscar Piastri

You even got a little hit in there! Nicely done

Pierre Gasly

That was beautiful

Esteban Ocon

Carlos doing what every single one of us has been wanting
to do for ages

Valtteri Bottas

👏

Fernando Alonso

That was not the chaos I was hoping for

Fernando Alonso

Well done, guys

Sergio Pérez 👑

Carlos deserves the crown

Carlos Sainz

@Sergio Pérez ❤️

George Russell

You know what, Checo, he does. But so do you for still
being alive and well considering the trauma from last
year you carried with you into this weekend.

George Russell changed Carlos Sainz’s nickname to Carlos Sainz 👑.

George Russell

The chat now has two kings. Congratulations.

Zhou Guanyu

👏👏👏

Carlos Sainz 👑

To quote what the great @Oscar Piastri once said in this chat:

Carlos Sainz 👑

Bow down, bitches!

Chapter Text

As news spreads about Lando’s ten-second stop-and-go penalty, Oscar quickly realizes he’ll be sharing the podium with Max and Charles. Whether he’ll take P2 or P3 comes down to the final lap, but in the end, he crosses the line in third — less than a second behind Charles and trailing several seconds behind Max.

Despite the disappointment of missing out on P2, Oscar feels too drained to dwell on it. Sharing the podium with Max and Charles isn’t new, but tonight, he has zero energy left to strategize how to keep them apart. He knows their post-race time together will be limited, though. The P3 and P2 interviews are usually brief, while the P1’s interview drags on longer, keeping Max in front of the cameras and minimizing their cooldown room yapping.

That much becomes evident when Oscar engages Charles in a detailed conversation about the race. He drowns the Monégasque with question after question, determined to hold his attention. At one point, cheers from outside the room make Charles glance hopefully toward the door. But when no Max appears, he slumps back into his chair, allowing Oscar to pull him deeper into their conversation.

However, the peace doesn't last. As soon as Max finally steps into the cooldown room, Charles immediately ropes him into their discussion about the malfunctioning yellow lights.

“What was going on with the safety car light?” Charles asks, his eyes already on Max, who hasn’t even had a chance to set down his water bottle and helmet.

Oscar watches with smug satisfaction, although keeping his gaze fixated on the TV, as Max tries to juggle answering while fumbling with his gear. The Dutchman stumbles over his words, drops his towel, and awkwardly balances his Pirelli cap on the table. For a moment, Oscar feels victorious, knowing he’d successfully diverted Charles’s attention earlier.

As the race recap plays on the screen, Oscar decides to let things be. He doesn’t have the energy for elaborate maneuvers to keep Charles and Max apart, nor does he think it’s necessary. They're all exhausted, worn out from a grueling season. With the break on the horizon, Oscar believes he can ease up — just this once.

However, there is a split second — just a tiny moment after the awards have been handed out and before the champagne celebrations — where Oscar notices Max looking around for his bottle while Charles is in the middle of saying something to him, and the Dutchman gets so distracted by the Ferrari driver that he momentarily seems to forget what it is he’s looking for. He rubs at the back of his neck and lets out what Oscar can only classify as a fucking giggle at whatever the hell it is Charles is saying. (Which isn’t even remotely funny, Oscar is sure.)

‘Please no, not now,’ Oscar thinks to himself as he fights the urge to roll his eyes as he watches the exchange. ‘I was doing so well. Please, just let me have this.’

As it turns out, his moment of panic is fleeting once the bottles are popped and the celebrations begin. Sure, Max initially targets Charles with the rose water bottle, attempting to drench him, but when it doesn't do what he wants, Max shifts his attention to his mechanic, giving Oscar the perfect chance to engage with Charles and pull him away.

‘Thank fuck,’ Oscar thinks to himself, breathing a sigh of relief as he realizes that his strategy works, and he can’t help but feel a twinge of pride. Though he knows the looming end of the season plays a big part, he relishes the small victory. Sometimes, subtlety wins the day.

The spirit of Kimi Räikkönen burns within him like the world’s calmest, yet extremely powerful flame as he reaches a level of serenity he used to think was impossible when faced with the task of dealing with the two most notorious drivers on the entire grid. And although Oscar never got the chance to race alongside the iconic Finn, he has been compared to him enough times that he likes to think that Kimi recognizes parts of himself in the Australian whenever he watches a race, or an interview.

If he ever watches anything F1 related at all, that is. God knows Kimi was eager as hell to get the hell away from the sport when he permanently retired.

(He will not admit to having watched the video George sent him, titled ‘Oscar Piastri being Kimi Räikkönen for 8 minutes straight’, earlier this season at least ten times.)

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

Lando Norris

You lucky bastard

Oscar Piastri

Not my fault everybody is tired

Fernando Alonso

You used the end of the season well

Nico Hülkenberg

I'm impressed

Oscar Piastri

What's there to be impressed about?
I just let them be?

Lewis Hamilton

Sometimes that's all you need to do

Kevin Magnussen

Yes. Well done, Oscar

Oscar Piastri

Thank you

Sergio Pérez 👑

Yes, well done

Sergio Pérez 👑

But not enough to take my crown

Carlos Sainz 👑

OUR crown

Sergio Pérez 👑

Sorry. OUR crown

Oscar Piastri

I wouldn't dare

George Russell

Am I the only one picturing Sergio and Carlos
sitting in some dark corner, clutching their shared
crown while muttering ‘our precious’?

Lewis Hamilton

Nope.

Yuki Tsunoda

Nope

Alexander Albon

Definitely not

Liam Lawson

I can picture that so vividly that it’s actually
borderline disturbing

Sergio Pérez 👑

🖕

Carlos Sainz 👑

🖕

George Russell

Let’s see how you do in the press conference.

George Russell

Good luck.

***

He does not do well in the press conference.

Having been lulled into a somewhat false sense of security immediately post-race proves to be foolish, and Oscar is mentally kicking himself as he sits on the couch next to Max.

They’ve been in the room for less than thirty seconds, and Max and Charles have already seemed to forget about his general existence, enthralled by each other’s words — and eyes, if the way they’re looking at each other is anything to go by. Because heaven forbid that anything or anyone exist outside of the little bubble Max and Charles seem to retreat into whenever they’re in the same space.

And fuck whichever poor soul is forced to share that space with them, apparently.

He tries his best to maintain his composure — to be present in the press conference and be attentive to the many people who are currently focusing on him. But when Max and Charles take their insufferable behavior one step further and begin yapping while Oscar is in the middle of answering a question, he knows it’s a lost cause.

The last remaining fuck he had to give goes out the window, and as soon as he lowers the microphone upon finishing his answer to the question, he zones out and goes where so many have gone before him to escape the horrors that Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc subject them to:

He goes to planet Carlos. And he doesn’t return to the earthly realm until he is far, far away from them both.

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

George Russell

Well.

George Russell

That was hard to watch.

Alexander Albon

What started so well…

Fernando Alonso

Hahahaha

Nico Hülkenberg

😬

Oscar Piastri

Oh, shut up

Valtteri Bottas

As much as I like making fun of my colleagues,
please let us focus on the most important part of
today:

Valtteri Bottas

Valtteri Bottas

Oscar Piastri

Excellent point, Valtteri

Oscar Piastri

You were great today, Zhou!

Lewis Hamilton

Wonderful drive today! You deserve all the praise.

George Russell

Everyone, put your hands together for Zhou! 👏👏👏

Kevin Magnussen

👏👏👏

Nico Hülkenberg

👏👏👏

Yuki Tsunoda

👏👏👏

Liam Lawson

👏👏👏

Fernando Alonso

👏👏👏

Lance Stroll

👏👏👏

Sergio Pérez 👑

👏👏👏👏👏👏

Pierre Gasly

👏👏👏

Esteban Ocon

👏👏👏

Carlos Sainz 👑

👏👏👏👏👏👏

Lando Norris

👏👏👏

Oscar Piastri

👏👏👏

Lewis Hamilton

👏👏👏

Valtteri Bottas

👏👏👏

Franco Colapinto

👏👏👏

Alexander Albon

👏👏👏

Zhou Guanyu

Thank you so much, everyone ❤️

George Russell

I cannot believe you ruined a perfectly symmetrical
thing, @Carlos Sainz @Sergio Pérez.

Oscar Piastri

Hey Siri, play “You ruined everything, you stupid bitch”

Sergio Pérez 👑

🖕

Carlos Sainz 👑

🖕

George Russell

Well. At least that's symmetrical.

Chapter Text

The end-of-season dinner Lewis always hosts tends to be an overall pleasant affair. It’s a nice way for the drivers to all get together outside of the track one last time before parting ways for the winter break, and celebrate the end of yet another season.

Despite the unpleasantness between Max and George that’s currently taking most of — if not all of — the spotlight so far this race weekend, Checo is kind of excited for the dinner. Because, as selfish as it might sound, he thinks the drama between his teammate and George might ensure Max and Charles will not have a chance of being insufferable.

And if he’s being honest, Checo thinks he has earned the right to be a little selfish, given the years of hell and torment those two have put him through.

He arrives with Max, and all his teammate has time to do is greet the other drivers — including Charles, but unsurprisingly excluding George, who looks like he’s already sweating bullets at Max’s mere arrival — before they’re being seated. In the chaos of having so many people finding a seat in one room, he barely notices the way Pierre is grabbing at Charles’ elbow and physically dragging the other man towards the end of the table, where George is already sitting. But then he catches the Frenchman’s eye, and Pierre gives him a curt nod and a knowing look. Checo returns it with a small, grateful smile, unsurprised when he sees Max go to sit at the other end of the table, as far away from George as possible.

Success, he thinks to himself.

He won’t get to find out until later that Pierre managed to bring Charles far away from Max with the potential of gossip, and a chance for the Monégasque to ensure George doesn’t say a word about his precious Max all evening.

(He’ll come to succeed, too, it will turn out, because Charles spends the majority of the evening glaring daggers at George any time he dares open his mouth.)

Feeling relieved and relaxed, he lets Carlos tug him down into the seat next to him at George's end of the table. And he feels comforted by the Spaniard's presence at his side.

The meal itself is delicious, and the atmosphere is good. There is no mention at all about the beef between Max and George, which is largely due to Charles’ direct line of vision to George and the evil in his eyes every time the Brit meets his gaze, and Max's overall approach to the situation: that it’s a waste of time and energy that is absolutely beneath him and therefore, George has instead ceased to exist altogether in Max's head.

In fact, Checo is having such a good time that he doesn’t even notice the evening flying by. In the blink of an eye, dinner is over, and they’re all being encouraged to stand together behind the table to pose for a picture before going their separate ways for the evening.

And by the time Checo realizes he has grown too comfortable, too complacent, too safe, it’s too late:

Somehow, through no fault of his own, he has not only ended up in the smack dab center of the group for the photo. No, he has also — by some cruel divine intervention, he’s sure — somehow gotten stuck between Max and Charles.

And not only that, there is also the very gentle, but very distinct pressure against his lower back of two hands, joined together that absolutely does not belong to him.

Because of fucking course Max and Charles would use the first chance they get to hold hands behind Checo, and using Checo's body as a pillar to support them, no less.

It dawns on him, then, that no matter how many times he has tricked himself into believing otherwise, that this season could, in fact, somehow get even worse.

And of course Max and Charles would be the root cause of increasing his suffering one more time before the season is over.

As he vows to himself that even if he by some miracle could qualify top 3 and/or somehow drag himself to a podium finish, he will put his car in the wall without a single care about being subtle about it instead of risking yet another moment stuck between his idiot teammate and his idiot teammate's idiot Charles, he does the only thing he knows how to do in this situation:

He goes to planet Carlos, fully expecting having to stay there until he safely makes it back to their hotel.

The look in his eyes in the photos taken at that moment can only be described as pained and haunted.

What Checo doesn’t expect, however, is the others noticing his unfortunate placement and apparently making a plan to save him without anyone saying a single word.

As soon as the photo op is deemed finished, Carlos is out of his seat and at his side, having physically placed himself between Checo and Charles. To his left, Esteban has somehow managed to wedge himself between Checo and Max, with Pierre and Alex coming to join him in an instance. This leads to Max automatically moving further away from him, and away from Charles. Valtteri, who is now standing next to Max, grabs the Dutchman's shoulders and uses his hold to switch their positions, putting yet another body between Max, Checo and Charles.

“Zhou wants to show you something,” he hears the Finn tell Max, and a second later, Zhou is shoving his phone in Max's face to show him a video of his cat.

To Checo's other side, Liam has engaged Charles in a conversation about what Ferrari will be trying with their cars this weekend while Lando has gotten up and is asking Charles if he can move a bit so he can get past him to go to the bathroom. But when Charles moves, Lando just steps in behind him and stands there, unmoving, between Carlos and Charles. Franco pretends to have an urgent question to ask Lando to keep him where he is, and rises from his chair to block any potential view Charles may have had of Max.

Oscar appears out of nowhere, and is just standing next to Charles without saying a word, not even pretending to listen in on his and Liam's conversation. Pierre and Yuki then flank Charles from the other side and when Lewis comes to join the party, the Monégasque is effectively surrounded and trapped. Even George, who has been abnormally quiet all evening, takes part in the human blockade, effectively keeping Max and Charles far away from each other, and keeping them both far away from Checo.

As the Mexican looks around at his fellow drivers, he catches Lewis' gaze, who gives him a nod and a small smile, as if to silently say: “We've got your back.”

Checo is so moved by their efforts that he grabs onto Carlos’ forearm for a lack of anything else to do, and squeezes firmly.

The Spaniard meets his eyes, placing a comforting hand on top of Checo's on his arm and giving him a reassuring smile.

And in that moment, Checo realizes that he has never felt more loved.

When it’s time to leave, Pierre and Carlos make sure to get Charles out first, and the Monégasque disappears in a car back to the hotel with his teammate before Max is even released from the group holding him captive and exits the restaurant.

It's a flawless execution of the perfect plan, and as Checo sits in the car with Max on the way back to the hotel, he feels overwhelmed with gratitude.

“How was Charles?” Max asks once they’re about two minutes away from the hotel. “I didn’t get the chance to talk to him all night.”

And for the first time upon being asked that question, Checo smiles.

“He was good, Max,” Checo responds, as he reaches out to pat Max's knee reassuringly. “I’m sure you'll get plenty of chances to talk to him this weekend.”

Max smiles back and nods. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he agrees. “So what was it you ordered?”

Checo will absolutely take that change of conversation as a win.

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

Sergio Pérez 👑

Guys

Sergio Pérez 👑

Thank you so much

Sergio Pérez 👑

That’s the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me

Oscar Piastri

Don't mention it, mate

Alexander Albon

Yeah, you didn’t think we were going to leave you to suffer,
did you?

Zhou Guanyu

It was the least we could do

Lando Norris

You deserved a break, Checo

Franco Colapinto

👆

Lewis Hamilton

Yeah, you've suffered enough at their hands. No way we were
letting it happen tonight.

Esteban Ocon

Nice job with Charles, Pierre!

Pierre Gasly

Thank you!

Pierre Gasly

I knew he couldn't say no to the potential of gossip and clocking
George if he brought up Max

George Russell

I've never seen hate in a man's eyes like that before.

Fernando Alonso

Don’t worry, you'll see it again all weekend I'm sure

George Russell

Wow, thanks, Fernando.

Fernando Alonso

You're welcome 😁

Yuki Tsunoda

@Sergio Pérez happy we could help!

Valtteri Bottas

Genius move with the cat video, @Zhou Guanyu

Zhou Guanyu

Thank you! Max can never resist Sweetcorn

Liam Lawson

Brilliant, Zhou

Carlos Sainz 👑

We've got your back, @Sergio Pérez ❤️

Sergio Pérez 👑

🥹❤️

Chapter Text

The 2024 season comes to an end, and what a thriller of a season it has been. One that has seen Max Verstappen crowned as the World Driver’s Champion for the fourth consecutive time, while McLaren managed to win their first World Constructors’ Championship since 1998.

For many teams, it’s been a season of extreme highs and awful lows. Some drivers have even seen their Formula 1 careers come to an end, be it temporarily or permanently. And at the end of such a thrilling, tiring season, not a single driver on the grid is not looking forward to a well-deserved winter break.

For the first time all year, a real calm is settling over what is undeniably the drivers’ and the teams’ second home: the Formula 1 paddock.

But then, somewhere in the paddock, a phone lights up with an incoming WhatsApp message. Picking up the phone, the man smiles as he opens the message from Max.

Max Verstappen

Any updates?

He goes into his gallery, selecting the most recent screenshots from the group chat. Then, he presses send.

Max Verstappen

You never disappoint.

He grins, putting his phone back down on the table and returning his attention to the events taking place in front of him.

He turns his head, catching the knowing smile from his teammate.

"Are they up to date?"

He nods. "As always."

Chapter Text

The FIA prize giving ceremony is not something Oscar has been looking forward to. It’s such a fuss, and Oscar Jack Piastri is not someone who enjoys anyone that requires people fussing over or around him. But, it is a necessary evil, especially now that McLaren managed to win the 2024 Constructors Championship.

And the team does deserve to be celebrated in any way, shape or form, including this ridiculous event that amongst other things forces Oscar to pretend like the mere presence of the FIA president doesn’t absolutely repulse him.

But, he’ll do it for the team.

The fact that he successfully manages to dodge Mohammed Ben Sulayem for most of the evening makes it a bit more enjoyable, as does the presence of his teammate and other McLaren team members. Hell, even Max and Charles are seemingly on their best behaviour — which Oscar will mostly credit the fact that the 2024 Driver’s World Champion has a significantly more packed schedule than the driver who finished third.

Bar for a couple of photo op sessions, Charles and Max are kept at a fairly reasonable distance from each other for the majority of the evening, much to the relief of — well, anyone who has ever had the misfortune of having to witness them interact.

As he sits in his seat on the second row, directly behind Lando with Charles on Lando’s left and Max on Lando’s right, the Australian can’t help but wonder if the two men on either side of his teammate are silently seething at Charles not having managed to surpass Lando in the WDC standings, because that would have ensured them a seat right next to each other.

‘Serves them right,’ Oscar thinks to himself, as he leans forward to squeeze Lando’s shoulder in a display of silent gratitude.

His teammate turns his head to grin at him over his shoulder, before returning his attention to the stage.

It appears that Lando is acting as a buffer, deterring Max and Charles from even attempting to speak to each other while they’re seated. It’s a beautiful sight, really.

Lando gets called onto the stage and Oscar watches him rise from his seat and make his way towards the steps. Had it not been for the fact that the chairs are larger than some people’s apartments and the ridiculous amount of space that has been left between each one, Oscar might have worried about the Lestappen buffer leaving his post. But, as it is, he doesn’t feel even an ounce of concern.

It doesn’t surprise him when Max turns to Charles almost immediately after Lando has vacated his seat, getting the Monégasque’s attention and attempting to engage him in a conversation that Oscar is absolutely certain could have waited until later. But, Max is Max and Charles is Charles, and together they seem to have this irresistible pull that draws them together in any given situation as long as they’re within sight and reach of each other.

He watches as Charles tries to lean in to hear what Max is saying, but it’s useless with the amount of space between them unless Max plans on actually shouting over the noise from the stage. Thankfully, he doesn’t, but he does pat the arm of the chair between them, seemingly trying to get Charles to switch seats so they can yap.

While Lando is on stage.

Oscar stares at them in wonder, and gives a nod of approval to no one but himself when Charles seems to reject Max’s suggestion to move closer, briefly indicating towards Lando on the stage and mouthing what Oscar is sure is ‘He’ll be back soon’.

Admitting defeat, Max gives a curt but disappointed nod. And Oscar probably should not be feeling as smug as he does watching the scene unfold, but he can’t help himself.

And in that moment, Oscar feels only peace, calm and serenity — none of which he had expected to feel tonight.

He should have known that it would all come crashing down on him mere moments later.

Max turns to him then, looking directly into Oscar’s eyes with a stare so intense that the Australian is momentarily frozen in place, like a deer caught in headlights, or a prey realizing it’s being stalked by a predator.

Regaining his composure and feeling more than a little confused, Oscar raises an eyebrow in silent question at Max.

Then, Max discreetly uses a finger to beckon him closer.

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

Sending a silent ‘fuck you’ to whatever deity decided he was deserving of this type of punishment, Oscar begrudgingly leans forward so he can hear what Max is saying.

A sentence that of course starts with: “Tell Charles that…”

He zones out after that, because how is this his life? What on earth has he done to deserve being put through not only third-wheeling Max and Charles during the season with them pretty much ignoring his existence, to being forced to third-wheel them post-season as some sort of fucking carrier pigeon?

He’s not able to recollect what Max actually tells him to save his life, but he somehow manages to relay whatever it was to Charles, who has also turned to face him and is waiting expectantly to hear what it is Max has to say, and is eagerly waiting to pass on his own message to Max.

And so Oscar sits there, a row behind them and somehow roped into sending messages back and forth between them, missing just about every moment of Lando being on stage.

He wonders if Carlos will start charging him rent if he makes another trip to Planet Carlos.

Time ceases to exist as Oscar plays the part of Max and Charles’ carrier pigeon, but their exchange comes to an abrupt halt when the McLaren team members are suddenly being called on stage to be given the Constructor’s trophy. Both Max and Charles return their attention to the stage at that, seemingly waiting for Oscar’s name to be called as well.

But, because there is apparently no end to Oscar’s suffering on this “fine” evening, they call every name but his. So as the rest of the team that is present here tonight goes to join Lando on the stage, Oscar remains seated because he is nothing if not polite, and just waits. And when his name still doesn’t get called, he sees Max beginning to turn to him again, no doubt intending on going back to using Oscar as a messenger for Charles. Seconds later, he feels a second pair of eyes — green, he knows — on him as well.

‘These fucking bitches,’ Oscar thinks to himself, as he prepares to resign himself to what is apparently his inevitable fate tonight.

But then Andrea’s voice breaks through the haze, calling his name, and Oscar looks up to see his team principal gesturing for him to come join them.

Oscar doesn’t think he has ever jumped out of his seat that fast in his entire life.

‘Free at last,’ he whispers to himself, accompanied by a sigh of relief, as he makes his way up the steps to join his team.

Once he’s up on that stage, he can’t help but glance at Max and Charles, who are now sitting upright in their respective seats, paying close attention to what is happening before them, with their abandoned yapping session through Oscar seemingly the furthest thing from their minds.

The irony of that is not lost on him.

All Oscar can do is pray to whatever God is out there that neither of them decide to spend their holiday in Australia.

And if they do? Well, then Oscar sure as fuck is not spending his holiday in Australia. Sorry, mum.

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

Oscar Piastri

Hello again.

Lewis Hamilton

Well, I did not expect to have to use this chat again
just yet, but: Oscar, are you okay?

Alexander Albon

That is some next level suffering. Post season AND being
forced to be their messenger?

Lando Norris

Mate, I had no idea. I’m so sorry for leaving you with them

Fernando Alonso

Getting a notification for this group was a jumpscare

Yuki Tsunoda

Oscar?????

Oscar Piastri

I blame the FIA president for this

Nico Hülkenberg

Fair

George Russell

Isn’t that a bit of a stretch?

Lewis Hamilton

Shut up, George.

Lando Norris

Shut up, George

Fernando Alonso

Shut up, George

Liam Lawson

Shut up, George.

Alexander Albon

Shut up, George.

Oscar Piastri

Yeah, shut the fuck up, George

Carlos Sainz 👑

[File attached]

Oscar Piastri

What the hell is that?

Sergio Pérez 👑

Your plane ticket, to Madrid

Carlos Sainz 👑

Your flight leaves in two and a half hours

Oscar Piastri

What?

Sergio Pérez 👑

[Image attached: A bottle of Patrón tequila on a table]

Oscar Piastri

What, really?

Sergio Pérez 👑

Yes

Carlos Sainz 👑

You deserve it

Oscar Piastri

Will Max and Charles be there?

Sergio Pérez 👑

Jajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajaja

Carlos Sainz 👑

NO

Oscar Piastri

On my way

George Russell

Ahw, Carco to the rescue!

Carlos Sainz 👑

Shut the fuck up, George

Sergio Pérez 👑

Yeah, shut the fuck up, George

George Russell

Stop trying to make that a thing

Oscar Piastri

Don't be such a Regina, George

Oscar Piastri

You're just jealous they didn't invite you

Oscar Piastri

@Sergio Pérez @Carlos Sainz I will see you

in a few hours

Valtteri Bottas

[Replying to: “Don't be such a Regina, George”]
I opened this group chat on my holiday for no other
reason than to say that this is fucking hilarious. Well
done, Oscar

Valtteri Bottas

Consider this my goodbye

Valtteri Bottas

Goodbye

Valtteri Bottas

🖕

Valtteri Bottas left the chat

Chapter Text

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

George Russell added Oliver Bearman to the chat

Oliver Bearman

Uhm?

Oliver Bearman

What is this?

Yuki Tsunoda

Don’t worry, you’ll find out

George Russell

I was hoping you would ask that.

George Russell

[Link attached: How (Not) To Third Wheel Lestappen]

Oliver Bearman

What the actual fuck?

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

George Russell added Jack Doohan to the chat

Jack Doohan

I’m actually a little disappointed I wasn’t added sooner

Jack Doohan

Like, before Abu Dhabi

Pierre Gasly

Trust me, you’re not

Jack Doohan

I beg to differ

Pierre Gasly

No, you don’t

Esteban Ocon

You better listen to him

Jack Doohan

Why?

Yuki Tsunoda

Just listen to Pierre if you want to live

Jack Doohan

You guys are weird

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

George Russell added Andrea Kimi Antonelli to the chat

Andrea Kimi Antonelli

HELLO EVERYONE!

Fernando Alonso

Oh wow, he’s excited to be here.

Fernando Alonso

That’s not going to last

Lewis Hamilton

I give it one race weekend.

Andrea Kimi Antonelli

???????????

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

George Russell added Gabriel Bortoleto to the chat

Fernando Alonso

Welcome to your worst nightmare, kid

Fernando Alonso

We wish you all the best

Gabriel Bortoleto

What?

Nico Hülkenberg

Don’t listen to him

Gabriel Bortoleto

I’m so confused

Nico Hülkenberg

I’ll give you an explanation soon

George Russell

Show him the PowerPoint!

Nico Hülkenberg

Shut the fuck up, George

Nico Hülkenberg

I’ll give him my OWN explanation

George Russell

What does that mean?

Nico Hülkenberg

Nothing that concerns you

Gabriel Bortoleto

I’m scared

Fernando Alonso

Good. You should be.

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

George Russell added Isack Hadjar to the chat

Fernando Alonso

No, but who the FUCK authorized having 3(!)
French drivers on the same grid?!

Esteban Ocon

Hey!

Pierre Gasly

Hey!

Isack Hadjar

Hey! 😄👋

Fernando Alonso

Shut up. All of you.

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

Kevin Magnussen

Oh, I can finally leave

Kevin Magnussen

I’d lie if I say it’s been a pleasure

Kevin Magnussen

Bye

Kevin Magnussen left the chat

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

George Russell removed Sergio Pérez 👑 from the chat

Carlos Sainz 👑

No.

Carlos Sainz 👑 added Sergio Pérez 👑 to the chat

George Russell removed Sergio Pérez 👑 from the chat

Carlos Sainz 👑

NO

Carlos Sainz 👑 added Sergio Pérez 👑 to the chat

George Russell removed Sergio Pérez 👑 from the chat

Carlos Sainz 👑

I will end you

Carlos Sainz 👑 added Sergio Pérez 👑 to the chat

Lewis Hamilton

Leave it alone, George. This is not a fight you will win.

Carlos Sainz 👑

Damn right

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

George Russell added Valtteri Bottas to the chat

Valtteri Bottas

No.

Valtteri Bottas

Absolutely not.

Valtteri Bottas

Reserve drivers are exempt from this nonsense.

Valtteri Bottas

Add me again and I’ll make sure to take George out so
I CAN drive.

Valtteri Bottas

And then every single one of you is fucked.

Valtteri Bottas

🖕

Valtteri Bottas left the chat

George Russell

Why me? Why not Kimi?

Kimi Antonelli

Shut up, George

Chapter Text

His first season in red. His first season at Ferrari, after nine whole years at Mercedes. It has been a massive change for him to adjust to in so many ways, but it’s also a dream come true to be able to drive for what is arguably the most legendary team in Formula 1 history. And every single person has been so welcoming towards him, which has definitely helped make the transition that much easier.

Fred has welcomed him with open arms, and he’s always had a good relationship with Charles, so it’s not a surprise that they’ve gotten on splendidly so far. And although Lewis does think that the whole event at the O2 Arena is a bit… Ridiculous, he has actually looked forward to spending some more time with Charles in a more official setting.

Granted, he is acutely aware of the risk the event carries with it, given how all the teams will be attending. But, as the evening drags on, Lewis gets the sense that someone — he has no idea who — involved with the organizing of the event has made a point out of ensuring that Red Bull and Ferrari — or more specifically, Max and Charles — will not be crossing paths.

And for that, Lewis — and every other driver in the arena, he’s sure — is eternally grateful.

He spends the majority of the evening with Charles and at one point, the two of them play chess on Charles’ phone while seated at their table as the event passes by around them.

It’s nice. Comfortable. Pleasant. Relaxing.

He should have known it would eventually turn out to be way too good to be true.

When it’s time for them to go change out of their formal clothes and into their race suits — an atrocity in and of itself, because Lewis’ outfit should be admired and observed for the entirety of the evening — it dawns on Lewis that he has made a rookie mistake:

He’d let himself be lulled into a false sense of security. Because as soon as they go backstage, Charles’ eyes find Max and the Monégasque moves to follow the Dutchman as if there is some gravitational pull between them, which also effectively shuts down Charles’ ability to think straight and remember that they are in public.

With a sigh, Lewis grabs a firm hold of Charles’ shoulders to pull him back, stopping his beeline for Max, and angles him in the direction of their dressing room.

Charles goes willingly, seemingly not even registering that his teammate has intervened and steered him in the right direction.

“Idiot,” Lewis mutters under his breath as he walks behind Charles towards their dressing room.

“What was that?” Charles asks, having turned his head to smile at Lewis over his shoulder.

“Nothing,” Lewis responds with a grin.

Charles swallows the lie whole, none the wiser.

***

It gets worse, because of fucking course it does.

Once they’ve all changed into their race suits — again, an absolute atrocity and a crime towards mankind — the drivers gather backstage as they wait for their team’s presentation to begin. Lewis does his damnedest to keep Charles contained to one corner of the room and tries to block him from Max’s potential view. But, much like minutes earlier, there appears to be some gravitational pull between those two because before he even has time to say anything, Charles’ face is lighting up in the brightest smile Lewis has ever seen and seconds later, Max has joined them.

(Does Lewis’ height factor into it at all, given how both Max and Charles can see right over his head? Possibly. But he will certainly not entertain the thought.)

One would think that, given that this is the first launch event where Lewis is Charles’ teammate, that would be a topic of conversation upon Max’s arrival. Or at the very least, Max would acknowledge Lewis’ general existence. But no. The Dutchman only seems to have eyes for Charles, and immediately starts asking a million questions about the new songs Charles released the day before, singing his praises as if Charles is Antonio Vivaldi reincarnated.

Despite his efforts to insert himself into the conversation, the two of them are so enthralled by each other that they both seem to have forgotten that Lewis is standing right fucking there. Much like he was on that god awful podium in Austria back in 2022.

Lewis visibly shutters at the memory.

He turns his head to see if anyone is witnessing his turmoil, and his eyes find Carlos, who is watching him with an amused look on his face.

The Brit narrows his eyes at the Spaniard, who merely shrugs, smiles and gives him a condescending thumbs up.

Lewis would flip the guy off, if such acts weren’t beneath him. Instead, he turns back to the conversation taking place in front of him and watches as Max and Charles maintain some of the most intense eye contact he has ever seen up close. He briefly considers taking a page out of Carlos’ book and zoning out for a visit to Planet Carlos — but then he remembers that he’s forty years old, he’s been in this sport for decades, and he’s a veteran in terms of dealing with these two, for God’s sake. He doesn’t need to zone out and go to some imaginary planet in a galaxy far, far away to come out of this situation alive.

So he puts his years of experience and knowledge of Max and Charles to good use, and whips out his phone. While Charles is mid-sentence, he shoves his phone between them.

“Do you guys want to see a video of Roscoe having a bath?” he asks loudly, and Charles snaps his mouth shut immediately.

Both men turn their attention to Lewis, and as he sees the excitement on their faces, he knows he’s struck gold.

“Yes!” they say in unison, crowding closer together to look at Lewis’ phone as he presses ‘Play’ on the video.

It works exactly as Lewis had hoped it would. The second the video is finished, Max whips out his own phone to show photos of his new dog, Nino, sleeping on the couch with his cats. In response, Charles also gets his phone out to show his most recent video of Leo running full speed towards him, ears flapping as he moves. The change of topic effectively keeps Max and Charles from making Lewis their unwilling third wheel, as their shared love for their pets does a marvellous job of keeping both Max and Charles’ attention on something that isn’t each other, for once.

As Lewis shows them another video of Roscoe, this time playing with one of his many dog friends, he glances over his shoulder to see Yuki, Alex, Pierre and Liam staring at him in awe. The Brit offers them a self-satisfied smirk before turning his attention back to Max and Charles.

Another few minutes pass with the three of them taking turns showing videos and pictures of their pets, but the tranquility and comfort of the moment is quickly disrupted by an unfamiliar voice coming from behind Lewis.

“Let’s take a group photo!” the voice says, and Lewis glances over his shoulder to see the admin of the F1 Instagram account grinning at the drivers directly in front of him. Much to his relief, the woman hasn’t spotted him yet, and he decides now is his chance.

He bolts, heading straight for Carlos at the other end of the room. He doesn’t even turn to see who it is that bumps into him in his rush to get the hell away from that situation before he’ll be stuck in a photo with Max and Charles being their usual obnoxious, touchy selves for the whole world to see.

Carlos watches him the whole walk over, an unmistakable glint of something mischievous in his eyes.

The bastard is enjoying this.

As he comes to a halt next to Carlos, he quickly greets George, Ollie and Kimi before turning his piercing glare on the Spaniard.

“You could have warned me,” he says accusingly, punching Carlos in the shoulder for good measure.

Carlos hums, completely unfazed. “You could have read the group chat.”

Lewis stares at him for a second, a very unbecoming retort at the tip of his tongue. He stops it from spilling from his lips at the very last second.

“Touché,” he says instead, and decides that Carlos’ smug smile does not go well with the blue of his race suit.

George gasps. “Lewis, did you not read my PowerPoint?”

“Shut up, George.”

Then, Lewis spots movement in his peripheral vision and he turns his head to take a closer look. There, in the corner of the room, he sees a familiar figure with black hair slipping behind a curtain.

“Is that —,” he squints, trying to make out the outline of the man’s body behind the curtain. “Is that Checo?”

“No!” Carlos says entirely too fast for plausible deniability.

Lewis turns his attention back to the Spaniard, raising an eyebrow at him. There’s a slight blush creeping up the sides of the Spaniard’s neck, matching the color spreading across his cheeks.

“Did you sneak Checo in?” Lewis asks, folding his arms across his chest.

“I did no such thing,” Carlos insists and, like the terrible liar he is, refuses to meet Lewis’ gaze as he lies through his teeth.

“Uh-huh,” Lewis utters, unconvinced. When he looks back to the curtain, he sees one half of Checo’s face peeking out from behind it before quickly disappearing behind the fabric. He snorts. “Might want to make sure he does a better job of hiding.”

Carlos’ eyebrows furrow together in confusion at that, and he follows Lewis’ gaze to where Checo is hiding behind the curtain.

“Checo, for fuck’s sake, I can see your shoes,” Carlos groans as he starts making his way over towards the poorly hidden Mexican.

“Should I ask?” Ollie pipes up next to Lewis.

“No,” Lewis says at the exact same time as George interjects with a “Please don’t.”

Kimi, bless him, stares up at Ollie in confusion, which only earns him an equally confused shrug.

And at that moment, Lewis decides that he needs to ask Fred for a raise because the season hasn’t even started and he’s already physically and emotionally exhausted.

2025 is going to be the longest season yet.

Chapter Text

The moment Yuki hears the admin of the F1 Instagram account announce it’s time for a group photo, his first instinct is to run. But Yuki is tiny, and therefore escaping a crowded room is nearly impossible for him.

He barely makes it two steps before realizing he’s trapped, because, out of nowhere, Lewis appears behind him, making a beeline for Carlos, who’s casually chatting with George and Ollie — the two tallest figures in the room — and Kimi. The group of men is blocking his way and with that, Yuki’s last potential escape route vanishes.

From the corner of his eye, Yuki spots Max and Charles approaching, still glued together as if by an invisible string, yapping like there’s no tomorrow. The F1 admin, desperate to get as many drivers into the shot as possible, waves Max and Charles over, guiding them directly towards Yuki.

Yuki watches in silent horror as Max’s arm casually slides around Charles’ waist, Charles instinctively doing the same. The two inch closer, blissfully unaware — or perhaps entirely aware? Yuki doesn’t trust them one bit — of the chaos they stir wherever they go. Yuki can feel his internal panic rising, like a pressure cooker about to blow.

“Oh que non…” a voice murmurs beside him.

Yuki turns to see Isack, eyes wide, staring at Max and Charles like they’re some force of nature barreling toward them. Yuki recognizes that look instantly — he’s seen it before. Hell, everyone in this room has worn that same expression at least once when faced with the overwhelming presence that is Max and Charles together.

But before Yuki can even open his mouth, Isack makes a break for it, attempting a swift escape. Unfortunately for him — and fortunately for Yuki — Alex is there, stepping in like a towering schoolteacher intercepting a runaway student. With one hand, Alex gently but firmly grabs Isack’s shoulder, steering him right back to his spot next to Yuki. With the other hand, he reaches out to Pierre, guiding him into place. Simultaneously, Pierre stops Liam, who’s trying to speed past the admin and her camera like Lightning McQueen himself, by grabbing the back of his race suit. He holds onto Jack with his other hand, keeping him in place.

Isack glances over his shoulder at Alex, eyes wide with disbelief, just as Yuki hears it — soft but unmistakable:

“We leave no man behind,” Alex whispers from the corner of his mouth, his lips stretching into his signature wide smile just as the camera flashes.

He loses track of how many times the camera flashes and how many photos end up being taken, but at one point Isack leans closer to whisper a question.

“What do we do?” he asks, the uncertainty and borderline panic evident in his voice.

“Follow my lead,” Yuki whispers back, and as soon as they’re dismissed, Yuki fucking runs. Isack, not knowing what else to do, follows close behind him, as does Liam.

Had he looked back, he would have seen Alex, Pierre and Jack all scattering in different directions, leaving Max and Charles standing where they were, arms still wrapped around each other’s waists.

It would surprise exactly no one that neither of them even notice the others leaving, already wrapped up in yet another captivating conversation while the world ceases to exist around them.

***

Later that evening, Yuki slouches on his hotel bed, scrolling mindlessly through Instagram when he spots it — the group photo, now live on the official F1 account.

“Oh no,” he mutters, already bracing himself.

There it is. The whole chaotic scene captured in a single frame for the whole world to see. Yuki squints at his own expression — stiff shoulders, hands clasped awkwardly in front of him, a nervous smile. He looks like he’s barely holding himself together. Poor Isack isn’t looking any better, his expression screams that he rather be on the fucking moon then in that room with Max and Charles all cozy looking like they’re posing for their wedding photo.

Yuki already hates himself for clicking on the comments left on the photo.

formula1fanatic: Yuki looks like he’s being held hostage 😭

serendipitysister: Yuki, blink twice if you need help 🆘

gary563243: Alex looks like a schoolteacher and I’m here for it

formula1passionproject: Only Max and Charles look like they want to be there

ellalovesf1: Why does everybody except Max and Charles look like they’re being threatened?

Yuki buries his face in his hands, half-laughing, half-mortified. “Because we were. Sort of.”

Seconds later, his phone pings with a new message: Pierre has sent a screenshot zoomed in on Yuki’s panicked expression. Iconic, is all Pierre sends him. Yuki knows that he will never live this down.

Then, to make matters even worse, a WhatsApp notification adds to his misery.

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

Lewis Hamilton

I did not think we would have to bring this back even
before pre-season testing.

Lewis Hamilton

And yet, here we are.

Lewis Hamilton

Welcome back, gentlemen.

Nico Hülkenberg

I’m actually surprised it didn’t start during the winter
break

Alex Albon

Well, at least we’re in this together

Liam Lawson

Yeah, you made damn sure of that!

Pierre Gasly

Consider it your initiation

Yuki Tsunoda

😭😭😭

Isack Hadjar

Can I opt out of this whole sport?

Fernando Alonso

Ha

Fernando Alonso

No

Lance Stroll

Fernando, stop enjoying this

Fernando Alonso

No 😁

Jack Doohan

Really starting to second-guess my life choices

Kimi Antonelli

Me too

Oliver Bearman

Me three.

Gabriel Bortoleto

Me four

Oscar Piastri

Well, that started quicker than I thought it would

Lando Norris

The rookies second-guessing their choices, or Max
and Charles?

Oscar Piastri

Both

Esteban Ocon

Don’t worry, rookies, it will only get worse from here

George Russell

And this is why you read the PowerPoint and the group
chat

Oliver Bearman

Can we please talk about this???

Oliver Bearman

Yuki Tsunoda

No

Pierre Gasly

No

Lewis Hamilton

No.

Nico Hülkenberg

No

Oscar Piastri

No

Lando Norris

No

Alex Albon

No

George Russell

No.

Fernando Alonso

Fuck no

Jack Doohan

They were miles apart!

Jack Doohan

How can they manage to be THAT while being
MILES APART?!

Carlos Sainz

Welcome to hell, amigos

Chapter Text

When he reads the lineups for the second day of the pre-season testing press conference, Alex feels his blood turn to ice in his veins.

Alexander Albon.

Jack Doohan.

Lando Norris.

Max Verstappen.

Charles Leclerc.

The last two names hit him like a freight train and for a second, Alex loses the ability to focus on the screen of his phone as the internal panic starts rising from deep within his chest.

The sound of an incoming text brings him back to the present, though, and Alex opens the text from Jack, impressed at how quickly Jack had it sent off.

They must have seen the lineup at the exact same time.

Jack Doohan

Fuck

Alex can’t help but snort. Such a simple statement and yet, one that holds an infinite amount of meaning.

Alexander Albon

Yep.

Jack Doohan

What do we do????

He pities the young rookie, honestly. The guy hasn’t even suffered through an entire race weekend as an official F1 driver with them yet and he’s already developing the same sort of pre-trauma PTSD every experienced driver on the grid developed at one point or another.

He wonders, briefly, if the looming possibility of being subjected to Max and Charles at their absolute worst is somehow even more soul-crushing than being in the situation itself. If he was to ask Jack, he has a feeling the other man would respond with a resounding ‘Yes’.

Alex, however, is not a rookie. And although he is yet to share an F1 podium with Tweedledum and Tweedledee, he is no stranger to being trapped in other situations with the pair of them. He knows all too well just how insufferable those two can make any situation if and when given the chance. Over the years, he has learned that the most efficient way for him to keep Max and Charles somewhat at bay, is to take a page out of their own book:

By talking their bloody ears off to the point that they cannot do it to each other.

Alexander Albon

Honestly, mate?

Alexander Albon

Just talk to them. As much as you can, whenever you can.
Every pause between questions, just engage one of them in
a conversation about literally anything.

Alexander Albon

And hope to hell you don’t make direct eye contact with the
other while you’re doing it, and that they don’t make direct eye contact with each other.

Jack Doohan

…

Jack Doohan

What happens if I make direct eye contact with the other one?
Or they do it with each other?

Alexander Albon

Well, then you’re fucked.

Alexander Albon

They’ll see it as an invitation to hijack the conversation. And
once they do, there’s no chance you’ll be able to recover it.

Jack Doohan

Okay, so:

1. Talk non-stop at one of them whenever possible

2. Do not make eye contact with the other.

3. Do not let them make eye contact with each other.

Alexander Albon

Correct.

Jack Doohan

Got it. Anything else?

Alexander Albon

One more thing: Pray.

Jack Doohan

But I’m not religious?

Alexander Albon

Well, you might reconsider that if you want to get through
this press conference.

J ack Doohan

Oh God

Alexander Albon

There you go.

***

Does Alex have a moment of internalized panic as he takes a seat next to Max on the couch when Jack and Charles are yet to arrive? Yes.

Is that panic immediately relieved when he sees Jack entering the room ahead of Charles mere moments later and assures Alex the man will ensure he will not get trapped between Charles and Max on his own? Also yes.

He offers Jack a relieved smile as the Australian approaches the couch, with the Monégasque following close behind him. Jack smiles back at him, but it’s not a reassuring smile. No, it’s a mischievous one. Borderline evil, even. Bewildered, Alex allows his confusion to show on his face as he watches Jack grab and squeeze Lando’s and Max’s hands, before moving to do the same with him. As he does, the rookie leans down so he can speak quietly enough that only Alex can hear him.

“We leave no man behind,” he says, before quickly adding: “Isn’t that what you said, Alex?”

The meaning behind those words don’t register fully in Alex’s brain until it’s too late.

Instead of taking the obvious seat right next to Alex on the couch while Charles greets Lando and Max, he makes a point out of sitting on the far end of the couch — leaving only one spot available for Charles to take: next to Alex.

Which will leave Alex as the only buffer between Max and Charles.

Alex stares at Jack in horror, which earns him a wink and a kiss of the air between them. Meanwhile Charles, completely oblivious to Alex’s inner turmoil, takes the open seat next to him and pats his shoulder in greeting.

Tearing his eyes away from Jack, who is looking entirely too smug — after Alex shared his best tips with him — Alex manages to force a polite smile to acknowledge Charles’ presence next to him on the couch.

As Lawrence begins to welcome them all to the press conference, Alex wonders if today is the day he will finally make his first trip to his new teammate’s mental sanctuary, and visit Planet Carlos.

***

Much to Alex’s immense surprise, the press conference is… Not terrible. Which is a huge deal given the fact that he is currently sitting on the couch, trapped between the two most notorious, insufferable creators of third-wheeling torture to ever grace the Formula 1 grid.

It’s an absolute blessing that Lando and Max are already deep in conversation by the time the press conference starts, making it infinitely easier for Alex and Jack to keep Charles’ attention off of Max. And although Alex will go as far as to say that he is quite proud of himself for his part in making sure Max and Charles are on their best behaviour, it is nothing compared to the pride he feels for Jack.

Not only is the Australian executing Alex’s advice of keeping one of the two — mostly Charles, due to their seating arrangements — engaged in conversation every single chance he gets, but he’s only angling his body and leaning slightly forward every so often in what appears to be an attempt to sort of box Charles in, which just about eliminates the Ferrari driver’s ability to even try to make eye contact with Max, as well as Max’s ability to try to make eye contact with Jack.

‘A Lestappen third-wheeling master in the making,’ Alex thinks idly to himself.

Not even when Max gives the most sarcastic response to being asked about his thoughts about the F1 launch event and Charles turns into a giggling mess in response, cheeks flushing and shoulders shaking with the effort that only Max seems to be able to trigger in him, does the situation turn unbearable.

Alex is so caught off-guard by how easy and comfortable this press conference is, that he doesn’t even feel the need to roll his eyes when he catches Max beaming at Charles after having succeeded in making him laugh.

And just a few minutes later, the press conference is over.

It comes as absolutely no surprise to any of the other three drivers on the couch that Max and Charles get up from their seats at almost the exact same time and are the first to bolt from the room.

He turns to Jack, pausing in his tracks to give Max and Charles a bit more of a head start.

“That was masterful,” he mumbles to the Australian, who grins at him in response.

“Yeah?” he asks, puffing out his chest slightly with pride.

Alex nods, throwing an arm around the man’s shoulder. “Yeah,” he confirms, then uses his hold to pull the other man a bit closer so he can lower his voice. “But if you betray me like that again, I will send you flying into the barriers.”

“He’s not kidding,” Lando pipes up from next to Jack, patting his back in what appears to be mostly affectionate, but also with a hint of condescension. “Alex might be the nicest guy on the grid, but he can hold a grudge like no other.”

Jack’s audible gulp is the only response they receive. It’s also the only response Alex needs.

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen

Isack Hadjar

Why do you guys panic all the time?
They are not that bad?

Oscar Piastri

Don’t.

Pierre Gasly

Don’t you dare, rookie.

Esteban Ocon

Isack, if you jinxed it just now…

Lewis Hamilton

They’re about to become worse than they have ever been, aren’t
they?

Nico Hülkenberg

Yep

Fernando Alonso

Nice job, rookie

Yuki Tsunoda

Isack, why?

Yuki Tsunoda

I TOLD YOU not to jinx it

Oliver Bearman

Oh no

Lance Stroll

Really Isack?

Isack Hadjar

Oh, come on! That’s not a thing!

Carlos Sainz 👑

You better hope it’s not a thing

Alexander Albon

But in the meantime, boys…

Alexander Albon changed Carlos Sainz 👑’s nickname to Carlos Sainz.

Alexander Albon changed Jack Doohan’s nickname to Jack Doohan 👑.

Carlos Sainz

I’d argue, but that’s fully deserved

Carlos Sainz

I’ll get it back eventually

Lando Norris

That’s the spirit, Carlos

Liam Lawson

Love the confidence!

Gabriel Bortoleto

Unless somebody else gets it?

Kimi Antonelli

Ohhhhh!

Kimi Antonelli

So that’s what that crown means

George Russell

What did you think it meant?

Kimi Antonelli

Honestly? With the way you guys live, I have absolutely
no idea whatsoever

Fernando Alonso

Ohhh, rookie’s got sass

Oscar Piastri

Damn. He really is the Lestappen lovechild

Kimi Antonelli

I’m the what?!

Lando Norris

We’ve seen how you follow Max around like a lost puppy

Lewis Hamilton

He’s right, Kimi. You do. Same with Charles.

Alexander Albon

Hmmm. You’re right.

Alexander Albon changed Kimi Antonelli’s nickname to The Lestappen Lovechild™.

The Lestappen Lovechild™

Oh, come on!

Chapter Text

As he gets the checkered flag, Oscar is overcome with a sense of relief — although nobody would have ever been able to tell as much by listening to his post-race radio. He knows that Max had been gaining on him for the last few laps, and having a four-time world champion chasing you down is enough to have any driver sweating. Even one that has been labelled as the second coming of Kimi Matias Räikkönen, and who is known for his ability to remain calm and collected in any given situation.

He climbs out of his car and stands atop it, pumping his fists in the air, he knows that this win would have been a lot harder to come by had it not been for Max’s five second penalty.

It doesn’t surprise him that once they’re done with their post-race weigh-ins and they actually have a moment to talk to each other before the interviews, Charles and Max have already started their debrief. Nor does it surprise him that as soon as he approaches the pair and Max lays eyes on him, he briefly takes his attention away from Charles in order to clasp Oscar’s hand to congratulate him. It also doesn’t surprise him that Charles follows suit.

Oscar know he’s in a rather privileged position, because he is absolutely convinced that not every driver on the grid would have been able to steal Max and Charles’ attention away from each other post-race, especially not after having gone such a long time without having shared a top three finish. In fact, Max and Charles’ love for Oscar has been a source of envy for some of the other drivers for quite some time, as they believe the two of them are giving Oscar preferential treatment for being their so-called “love child”.

Which they absolutely are. As they should. It’s what Oscar deserves, after all.

It’s not his fault that his fellow drivers aren’t as loveable as he is and therefore have been adopted by two of the sport’s biggest menaces of all time.

He leaves them to it in favor of letting the photographers get their shots of him and when he looks back over in their direction, they’re already back in the conversation they’d allowed Oscar to interrupt moments before. A small smile stretches over his lips as he looks at them fondly.

And yes, Oscar is well aware that he is the only driver on the grid, aside from the rookies, that would ever look at the two of them being their insufferable selves fondly.

***

Finally escaping from the FIA president, Max makes his way back over to Charles as Oscar continues giving his post-race interview. The Monégasque greets him with the same smile he always does — the one he knows is reserved just for him — and despite the lingering anger over his penalty, Max can’t help but smile back.

“He’s a speed demon, just like you,” Charles tells him quietly, casting a quick glance in Oscar’s direction.

Max nods, following Charles’ gaze to the Australian. “And a track menace, just like you.”

Charles smirks and gives a curt nod when Max looks back at him. He holds his bottle out for Max in a silent invitation, which Max takes and taps the bottom of his own carefully against it in a makeshift toast.

The anger still boils beneath the surface of his skin as he thinks about the penalty he was given and how it cost him today’s win. But the look on Charles’ face and the undeniable pride he can’t help but feel for the driver Oscar is quickly growing into makes it a little easier to carry.

***

The cooldown room is a quiet affair, and Oscar knows it’s mostly because Max is still reeling from that penalty. He can see the annoyance in his eyes whenever he catches the Dutchman’s attention, and he knows it’s not directed at him. Not at all.

He gets it. Of course he does. He’d be equally pissed had he been the one who was given the five second penalty. As would any driver on that grid, and anyone who might try to claim otherwise would be lying through their teeth.

Charles, to the surprise of exactly zero people in the world, does his best to make sure Max is included in the conversation, and even manages to force a laugh or two from the sullen Dutchman in the room with them. Oscar, for his part, is just happy for the free pass he’s being given, because even with the special treatment Max and Charles so clearly reserve for him whenever the three of them are in the top three together, Oscar knows better than to push his luck when it comes to them. And the less energy he has to spend making sure he doesn’t end up being the blatant third wheel, the better.

The podium, on the other hand…

The podium catches him off-guard.

Not only does Max refrain from taking part in the champagne spraying, which doesn’t surprise him all that much given the circumstances, but Charles also keeps the spraying to a bare minimum. And that is the one thing Oscar had expected he wouldn’t get a free pass on, because Max and Charles have become pretty notorious for teaming up against the race winner on the podium and making it their personal mission to make sure the poor soul gets as close to experiencing the feeling of drowning as humanly possible, without actually suffering the consequences of such an act.

It leaves Oscar feeling so confused that by the time they all line up for the photo op on the podium and he clearly feels two hands grasping onto each other and squeezing against the small of his back — of course Max is using his long-ass arms to reach all the way past the man standing between him and Oscar to hold Charles’ hand, if only for a moment — before promptly letting go, he doesn’t even react.

And he can’t help but wonder if Max and Charles’ soft spot for him truly has reached a new high, or if this is just them making him think he’s safe only for the two of them to come out in full, awful force in the post-race press conference.

If he’s being completely honest, he doesn’t want to find out which one is actually the case.

***

It turns out to be the former rather than the later when the press conference does take place.

Unsurprisingly, Max’s penalty is a big focus, despite the Dutchman being very clear about not wanting to talk about it as doing so would without a doubt get him into a fuckload of trouble. How Max manages to keep himself as composed as he does is beyond Oscar, because he’s not sure he would have been able to do the same had their roles been reversed.

But, despite the endless questions about it and Max’s clear irritation at it being brought up again and again, he still doesn’t miss a beat when he’s asked about his thoughts about Oscar’s start to the season. And if he’s being perfectly honest, Oscar kind of stops listening to whatever is being said once Max is done praising him, because all he can do is replay Max’s kind words again and again in his head.

And not once does Max and Charles try to leave him out of the conversation from the moment they all enter the room.

It’s a clear win if he’s ever seen one — one he will take and run with.

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

George Russell

I’m sorry. But what the hell sort of special treatment is it they’re
bestowing upon Oscar?!

Lando Norris

I got attempted murder and Osc gets this?????

Lando Norris

What the fuck

Carlos Sainz

This surprises you?

Carlos Sainz

They love Oscar

Alexander Albon

They do

Lewis Hamilton

So much.

George Russell

So, what? They don’t love me?

Yuki Tsunoda

You are not actually asking that

Nico Hülkenberg

That’s a joke, right?

Fernando Alonso

Jajajajajajajajajajajaja

Fernando Alonso

Fucking George 😂

The Lestappen Love Child™

They love me too!

Oliver Bearman

And me!

Gabriel Bortoleto

They call me Gabi 🥰

Isack Hadjar

Max loves me

Jack Doohan 👑

They both always include me in the driver parades!

Sergio Pérez

You are all their weird children along with Oscar

Sergio Pérez

Doesn’t count

George Russell

Why are you still in this chat?!

Carlos Sainz

Because

Sergio Pérez

👆

Lewis Hamilton

For the love of God, George, let it go. This is not the hill
you want to die on.

Pierre Gasly

You know where this is going, George

Esteban Ocon

Yeah, don’t make us say it

Oscar Piastri

Didn’t realize you were the jealous type, George.

Oscar Piastri

It’s not very becoming.

George Russell

Screw you, Piastri, and your special privilege.

Carlos Sainz

If you hadn’t lost your P3 spot, you wouldn’t be having this
problem, George

Carlos Sainz

Just saying

Sergio Pérez

👆

Oscar Piastri

Yeah, I’m sure they would have been as well-behaved with you
as they were with me

George Russell

I can’t believe I’m being bullied in my own group chat. Again.

Lewis Hamilton

To be fair, they have been far more well-behaved in general so far
this season than they’ve ever been in previous seasons.

Lewis Hamilton

Even with the lack of top three moments they’ve shared.

Fernando Alonso

Lewis is right

Nico Hülkenberg

Yeah, he is

Nico Hülkenberg

It’s weird

Yuki Tsunoda

Maybe they’re growing up?

Isack Hadjar

Or maybe, just maybe, you’ve all just exaggerated?

Esteban Ocon

ISACK FOR FUCK SAKE STOP JINXING IT

Lando Norris

Whatever it is, I’m not about to complain about it

Lando Norris

I’ll take any peace they’re willing to give us

Oscar Piastri

Amen

Carlos Sainz

Me too

Lewis Hamilton

Absolutely.

Alexander Albon

So we’re all in agreement, then? Don’t question them and embrace it?

Nico Hülkenberg

Yep

George Russell

I suppose I can’t argue with that.

Sergio Pérez

👆

George Russell

You’re not a driver anymore. You can’t have an opinion.

Carlos Sainz

Shut the fuck up, George

Oscar Piastri

There it is.

***

Max lifts his phone from the bed next to him and looks over the mop of messy brown hair at the screen. He opens the new message he has just received and taps the the first of several screenshots attached to enlarge it.

As he scrolls through them, he can’t help but snort at the messages.

“Is that him?” Charles asks, as he lifts his head from Max’s chest and turns his head slightly.

Max nods, turning the screen slightly so Charles can have a better look.

“Looks like it worked,” the Dutchman says, watching as Charles’ face morphs into a smug expression.

“Good,” he says with a hum, as he looks from the screen to Max’s face. “They have no idea what’s coming.”

Max knows that the smirk on Charles’ face matches the one on his own.

Chapter Text

Nico

Nico sees it coming from a mile away.

The second Max joins him on the platform for the driver’s parade and sees Charles making his way through the crowd towards them after his mandatory round of greeting everyone like the social butterfly he is, he knows that he has two options.

Option one: He can turn and bolt, pushing his way through the crowd of drivers behind them. Like a coward.

Option two: Remain where he is and take it like a man.

It’s not a difficult choice to make. After all, Nico Hülkenberg is no coward. He’s a seasoned F1 driver — one of the veterans of the current grid. Not to mention the fact that he also has an advantage that very few other drivers on the grid can claim to have.

For as long as Nico has known Max Emilian Verstappen, he knows that the guy only has two soft spots — because Nico knows better than to classify anything about Max as a weakness — within the sport:

Charles Leclerc, and older men.

And out of the few drivers that can be classified as ‘older men’ on the current grid, Nico knows that he also happens to be Max’s favorite.

It goes without saying that Max just so happens to be Nico’s favorite as well.

So yes, the choice is not a difficult one to make. Nico squares his shoulders, raises his head, shares a quick glance and nod with Lewis, and welcomes Charles into their conversation with a big smile.

Charles, polite to a fault, greets him happily and appears to make a genuine effort to pay attention to what Nico has to say, even if the German catches Charles’ gaze drifting to Max’s face every three seconds or so.

Not that Nico minds. Hell, he’s probably one of only a few drivers who genuinely doesn’t mind Max and Charles’ inability to see anyone else outside of their bubble except for each other. Because at the end of the day, Nico feels protective of Max — has done since he was a kid trying to find his way in a sport that is cruel to anyone, and whose young age and exceptional talent made the majority of his fellow drivers ensure Max’s welcome into Formula One would become even more cruel. And because of it, all Nico really wants is for Max to be happy.

And looking at the way Max’s entire being lights up whenever he catches sight of Charles, Nico knows without even a sliver of a doubt that happy is exactly what Max is whenever he’s around Charles.

Therefore, instead of feeling like an outsider or like he’s intruding on something that feels far more intimate than it should given the very public setting, all Nico does as he watches Max excitedly and animatedly tell Charles a handful of his most ridiculous jokes — jokes that are nowhere near as funny as Charles’ reactions are making them out to be — is smile fondly at the scene that takes place before him.

He doesn’t even notice when Lewis discreetly sneaks off behind Max, leaving the three of them to it.

“But I mean, it’s funny, right?” he hears Max say over Charles’ infectious, wheezing laugh, and notices that Max is now looking directly at Nico for his reaction.

Nico snorts and gives Max a small nod. “It is,” he agrees, before glancing at Charles with a raised eyebrow. “Not sure if it’s that funny, though.”

That catches Charles’ attention, and he watches the way his cheeks turn a bright shade of pink at being caught out being as down bad as he clearly is, even after all these years.

Nico smirks at him, then gives the Monégasque’s shoulder an affectionate, reassuring squeeze. Charles clears his throat and smiles back, before he inevitably allows his attention to drift back towards Max, who has already launched himself into yet another story that is absolutely riveting — at least as far as Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc is concerned.

It also goes without saying that Max clearly is Charles’ favorite, too.

Which is a good thing. As much as he likes Charles, Nico would have had to kill him if it wasn’t mutual.

***

Ollie & Gabriel

Ollie isn’t entirely sure how or when it happened, but as the drivers’ parade begins approaching its end, he finds himself paying full attention to a conversation that has nothing to do with him. In fact, it feels like the kind of conversation he should not be hearing a word of and, judging by how wide Gabriel’s eyes are as he stares between Max and Charles, his mouth slightly agape.

Max and Charles had suddenly appeared at their sides a couple of minutes prior, asking if they were excited about their first F1 race in Monaco. They’d both been more than eager to share just how excited they were with two of their biggest idols, and Max and Charles had listened, seemingly genuinely interested and asking question after question. It even got to a point where Ollie found himself wondering why on earth so many drivers complained about being stuck within the vicinity of these two, insisting they’d make anyone else around them feel completely invisible due to them being too caught up in each other to pay attention to anyone or anything else.

But then Gabriel makes the mistake of asking Max and Charles how they’re planning to approach the race start, and it all spirals from there. And now, here he is, getting to experience first-hand exactly what the other drivers had warned him about. Because once Max and Charles started talking to each other, Ollie and Gabriel effectively ceased to exist.

To such an extent that when the conversation begins getting dangerously close to scheming, Ollie starts to believe that Max and Charles have genuinely forgotten that Gabriel and himself are standing right there, hearing every single word of what is being said.

It feels illegal, and when he meets Gabriel’s eyes, he knows he’s not alone in thinking that being metaphorical flies on the wall to what is starting to sound like a murder plot — which is a slight exaggeration, obviously, but still — is a million times worse than being made to feel like literal third wheels in someone else’s very public love fest.

Once the vehicle comes to a complete halt and the drivers ahead of them begin filing off, Ollie and Gabriel quickly move to follow, with Max and Charles close behind them. And as soon as they begin moving, the conversation behind them has shifted to something far more mundane and much less conspicuous.

“Did we seriously just hear all that?” Ollie whispers to Gabriel as they descend the steps taking them down to ground level.

“Nope,” Gabriel responds in a hushed tone. “We heard absolutely nothing.”

Ollie catches sight of Lando and George looking at them from over their shoulders, wearing matching questioning expressions.

He turns his attention back to Gabriel, and gives a curt nod. “You’re right,” he says. “We heard nothing.”

***

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen Support Group

Lewis Hamilton

Congratulations on getting your first taste of third-wheeling
experience, @Oliver Bearman and @Gabriel Bortoleto!

Gabriel Bortoleto

Thank you!

Oliver Bearman

Thanks, I guess?

Fernando Alonso

How was it?

Gabriel Bortoleto

Not nearly as bad as you all say it is 😄

Oliver Bearman

Yeah, I don’t know what people are complaining about

Oliver Bearman

They’re great!

George Russell

Uh-huh.

George Russell

So what were they talking about? Looked pretty intense.

Gabriel Bortoleto

Stuff

Oliver Bearman

And things

Lando Norris

Really? “Stuff” and “things”?

Gabriel Bortoleto

Yep!

George Russell

Kind of looked like they were plotting something to me.

Oliver Bearman

I don’t know what to tell you, George

Oliver Bearman

I ain’t no snitch

Gabriel Bortoleto

Me neither!

Lando Norris

This is meant to be a support group

Lando Norris

Withholding information is not very supportive, now is it?

Oliver Bearman

Not a single thing that was said will help anyone learn how to
better deal with third-wheeling them

Fernando Alonso

He’s not wrong

Oscar Piastri

As much as I hate to agree, he’s right

Pierre Gasly

Me too

Yuki Tsunoda

Me three

Lando Norris

Come on, seriously?!

Lewis Hamilton

If you want that kind of information, Lando, you’ll have to
obtain it on your own. Same as the rest of us.

Carlos Sainz

He’s right, cabrón

George Russell

I think we all need to focus on @Nico Hülkenberg, fellas, because
that whole thing looked far too cozy and comfortable.

George Russell

What’s your secret, Nico?

Nico Hülkenberg

Oh, that’s easy, George

Nico Hülkenberg

Just be Max’s favorite 😉

Esteban Ocon

HA! Good luck with that George

Alexander Albon

Yeah, I don’t see that happening any time soon. 😂

Lance Stroll

Yeah, me neither

Carlos Sainz

Jajajajajaja

Isack Hadjar

😂😂😂

Franco Colapinto

😂

Liam Lawson

Ouch 😅

The Lestappen Love Child™

🤐🤐🤐🤐🤐

George Russell

Wow.

George Russell

Screw each and every single one of you.

Chapter Text

Surviving Being Top 3 With Lestappen

Lewis Hamilton

So… That was an interesting moment.

Oscar Piastri

Tell me about it

Oscar Piastri

Fucking hell

Carlos Sainz

You got away good there, cabrón

Lando Norris

Imagine if they made top three after that move

Lando Norris

You’re welcome, by the way

Oscar Piastri

Thank you, Lando

Oscar Piastri

I owe you

Lando Norris

That’s what I thought

Oscar Piastri

Could’ve stayed out of my rear, though

Lando Norris

Nah, one favor per race, mate

Alexander Albon

Do you think they discuss things like this in bed?

Fernando Alonso

Probably

Nico Hülkenberg

Definitely. This is like foreplay for Max

Pierre Gasly

Knowing Charles, they do that instead of cuddling

Liam Lawson

TMI dude

Gabriel Bortoleto

Don’t need to know that

Oliver Bearman

Yeah, me neither

The Lestappen Love Child™

I don’t want to talk about this

Lando Norris

You don’t want to know how you came into existence,
Kimi?

The Lestappen Love Child™

No, thank you, I’ll pass

The Lestappen Love Child™

Also, can you change my name back?

Alexander Albon

No

Nico Hülkenberg

Too bad, it’s a good story

Lewis Hamilton

And you know this how?

Nico Hülkenberg

🤐

Esteban Ocon

Care to share, Nico?

Nico Hülkenberg

🪤

Lando Norris

The fuck does that mean?

Nico Hülkenberg

🪞

Lando Norris

Fucking boomers and their emojis

Oscar Piastri

Nico is a millennial

Lando Norris

Whatever

Franco Colapinto

Has anyone heard from George?

Yuki Tsunoda

He’s probably updating his PowerPoint

Nico Hülkenberg

😂

Lewis Hamilton

@George Russell

George Russell

Synchronized overtakes

George Russell

They are doing synchronized overtakes

George Russell

🙂

Oscar Piastri

Here we go…

Fernando Alonso

George?

George Russell

SYNCHRONIZED OVERTAKES????

George Russell

???????!!!!!!??!!!!!!!1

Carlos Sainz

Mate, breathe

Isack Hadjar

It’s not that bad

Lance Stroll

It was just a coincidence

George Russell

NOTHING IS A COINCIDENCE WITH THEM!

George Russell

THEY PLANNED THIS!

Oscar Piastri

How in the world can they do that?

Lewis Hamilton

It’s literally impossible to plan anything during a
race, George.

George Russell

THEY FOUND A WAY!

George Russell

I KNOW THEY DID!

Alexander Albon

You need to calm down, mate

Fernando Alonso

Yes, shut up, George

Pierre Gasly

Yeah, go update your PowerPoint

George Russell

I’M ALREADY WORKING ON IT!

Liam Lawson

Of course you are

Yuki Tsunoda

Told you

Gabriel Bortoleto

What is HAPPENING?

Oliver Bearman

What even is this conversation?

Isack Hadjar

You are all crazy

Oscar Piastri

Welcome to our shared nightmare

Oscar Piastri

We don’t have cookies

Oscar Piastri

Only pain and suffering

The Lestappen Love Child™

I want to go home

Sergio Pérez

I miss this

Carlos Sainz

We miss you

Gabriel Bortoleto

I’ll ask again

Gabriel Bortoleto

WHAT IS HAPPENING?

Fernando Alonso

No one knows, kid, no one knows

George Russell

[How (Not) To Third Wheel Lestappen.ppt]

George Russell

It’s updated.

Alexander Albon

Do you feel better now?

George Russell

A bit.

Alexander Albon

Good lad

George Russell

Shut up, Alex.

***

Max’s phone buzzes. He picks it up from the bed just as Charles walks out of the bathroom, wearing only boxer briefs and toweling his wet hair. Max opens the message and taps on the first of several attached screenshots.

He snorts. “George is on to us.”

“Is he?” Charles asks, sitting down next to him. The mattress dips under his weight as he leans on Max’s chest to look at the screenshots.

“Yeah. Only, no one believes him.”

Charles snorts. “Of course they don’t.”

“If it were anyone else, we’d have been caught already,” Max says, locking his phone and letting it drop back to the bed. He pulls Charles partly on top of him, his hands wandering. “They also think we talk about this in bed.”

“Well, they’re wrong,” Charles grins, shifting until he’s fully on top of Max. He presses a kiss under his jaw. “We were in the shower.”

Max laughs loudly, tightening his hold and rolling them over.

If only the others knew how close George is to the truth…