Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

George Hamilton-Rosberg watched his brother jump into their father’s arms.

Kimi had just lost his karting race by 2 seconds off 3rd place, the last time he got a podium was 3 months ago and he had been getting antsy to finally get the chance to break his losing streak - but he hadn’t been able to this Sunday afternoon at the cloudy Bristol track. So now he’s attached to their dad, clinging onto him for dear life. Lewis had wrapped his arms tightly around his younger son, putting his face in his fluffy, curly brown hair - saying all the mandatory things parents were obligated to say when their kid is upset.

George wanted to scoff, watching his younger brother humbled always amused him- because perhaps Kimi deserved to lose, he was always so nervous and sensitive when it came to everything. He definitely did not have the emotional regulation of a champion. Their dad certainly did not win 7 world champions from wiping his tears on Anthony Hamilton’s shoulder.

“C’mon, let’s get your kart in the van and get out of here, yeah?” Lewis quietly urged Kimi as the boy continued to keep himself in his father’s arms. George rolled his eyes before he could control himself and Lewis caught him. His dad raised his eyes brow and silently mouthed “really?” in his direction. His older boy didn’t rebuke, George resigned to looking at the ground.

“George, get the kart in the van please.” The glint of frustration in his tone was unnecessary, but George knew not to argue but he hated the way his father coddled Kimi. He should was allowed to dislike his brother’s pathetic display, it wasn’t like he was allowed to just start bawling after losing and then grab at his dad like a toddler.

George bit his lip as he rolled the kart onto the van, stopping himself from doing anything that would incriminate him again. The last time his papa visited, he earned an earful about being overly unkind when he didn’t help his struggling brother to put on his fireproofs. Nico gave Lewis a look then, a look to tell him that he was doing a bad job raising George, as if Nico shouldn’t be responsible for that too. George may have said that out loud before shutting himself in his room. He didn’t get to see his Papa leave for the airport and he was only mildly upset about that. Lewis tried to comfort George when he came back from seeing Nico off. That was the last time his dad hugged him and it was over a month ago.

When Kimi finally unwrapped himself from Lewis’ torso, he was told to get in the van as his dad went off to sign some finishing the race form. He walked sheepishly to George’s side, glancing up at him with wide brown eyes.

“You raced fine. Just stop being a sore crying loser and people might believe you can win next time.”

Several tents away, as Lewis was finishing the paperwork, a few fans started to appear, a lot of 8 and 9 year olds approached the former Formula 1 driver, champion 7 times over. Lewis put on a polite smile as he signed what everyone had.

“Our parents are what people think when they look at us, act like it.” George opened the van door, gesturing at Kimi to go in. George has learned a long time ago that whenever someone saw his name they saw 8 world championship titles, Kimi somehow hadn’t felt this responsibility yet.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be like dad or papa.” Kimi sniffled, it took little effort for him to admit this. George couldn’t disagree or say anything disingenuous so he doesn’t say anything at all.

“But you will.” Kimi chimed up, with a tone that was closed to sounding like pride. “You’re gonna do Formula Renault like dad did, he said you would when you’re 15.” The younger boy looked up at George with wide eyes. He wasn’t sure what Kimi wanted in response so George kept quiet again.

“Get in. He’s walking over.” George told him as Kimi nodded and lifted himself by the side handle of the car and took a large step to get in the truck. He was still so small for a 9 year old, like Lando small.

Lewis walked over - the crowd dispersed behind him - and got close to the van to whisper some words to Kimi before closing the van door, staring straight at George.

“George, will you please stop with the attitude? This wasn’t even your race.” His dad’s disappointment was way too strong over something this trivial.

“How am I being horrible? I just don’t want my brother to be crying after every race he loses, it’s embarrassing for everyone.” George went to open the passenger seat door but his dad put a hand on his arm.

“He’s a kid, it is not embarrassing and it IS horrible to be ashamed of your 9 year old brother. You know he’s a good kid, I know you do.”

Yes, his brother was a kid, the basic criteria for justifying pitiful behaviour. It was made pretty clear now that George would not be extended the same grace or comfort as a 13 year old. So he didn’t say anything.

Lewis hated when he’d just leave a blank in the conversation and just be stared at with George’s dead pan blue eyes. He opened the door for his son. “Get in the car, I think it’s going to rain.”

The teenager felt a sense of victory when his father gave into his game of silence, it was quite the tool George had discovered. He climbed into the passenger seat and looked back to his brother, to check if he was listening (the car was not as soundproof as his dad would like to believe). To no one’s surprise, Kimi was sadly watching him, just as he did before.

“Dad loves you too much.” George said shortly, Alex would say that sometimes he was too aggressively blunt but this was only Kimi.

“I know.” Kimi didn’t look at his brother as he fiddled with his headphones before putting them on for the journey.

Even though Kimi said the two words with such nonchalance, George’s stomach dropped for a second.

“What? Kimi-“ George immediately started back peddling, but he was abruptly stopped when his dad open the door to the driver’s seat.

“5 hour drive home, boys, don’t be on your phones the whole time, I don’t want anyone getting sick again.” Lewis tried smiling to lighten the mood, from his younger son losing a race he’d been looking forward to win and his older son’s moody superiority complex, but there was not much to do when neither of them made anything to acknowledge him but to just start driving.

When they got home, Kimi didn’t mention what he had said earlier that day and George didn’t volunteer to bring it up.

-

The next weekend, it was George’s turn to race and it was an exciting one at that. Williams had sent him and Nicholas Latifi down to Spain. Nico couldn’t come because he had previous commitments, even though he was in Monaco and Barcelona would be barely a trip for him, so Lewis went with George instead and Kimi stayed with their grandparents.

From Friday night to Saturday morning, George stuck by Alex’s side (the Red Bulls were also there of course). He’d missed him, a whole two weeks had passed since their last race and they weren’t living in the same county anymore, now Alex’s moved more north. George would swear Alex was the most understanding person in the world, the best person to speak to ever, it was as though every time they were together, everyone else was so much less interesting and nothing else was worth paying attention to. They were staying in the same hotel and Alex was practically living in George’s and Lewis’ room for these two days.

“Hey, we have free practice in a bit, remember to bring everything.” Lewis reminded them as George and Alex laid upside down on the bed. His dad had a slight smile on his face as he watched the two of them talk sometimes, a smile that George would describe as entertained at best and plainly sad at worse. Like he had something to say but the words would never leave his throat. George thought it had something to do with his dad feeling old but he wasn’t sure.

“Yes, Mr Hamilton.” Alex rolled off to the side of the bed, grabbing George’s helmet and passing it to him and taking his own. George grinned at Alex’s over-eagerness when it came to pleasing his dad even though he’d basically known him his whole life. The Williams racer sat up, rubbing a spot of dirt on the visor of his helmet.

“So, are we looking out for anyone on the grid today?” His dad asked. George wasn’t entirely sure who was racing, he only knew that Nicolas, Alex, Charles and a few others were here - more than half were central European kids that he was not overly familiar with so he didn’t bother checking.

“Max Verstappen’s coming down today,” Alex replied, his expression slightly expressing concern to show Lewis how he felt about that.

Well, George was definitely familiar with this European driver, Max’d often fry him and Charles off the podium but he didn’t know why Alex would be concern - Max was always on his tail but Alex had rarely give up his position to the Dutch boy.

“Right, Max.” Lewis also processing the information, apparently it was concerning to him too. One of the only cool things about having his dads at his races was that they looked so much younger than everyone else’s greying parents and Jos Vestappen was really grey - even his personality.

“He does always try to run Charles off the track but that’s just him.” George laughed, he remembered all the times Charles would complain about Max Verstappen’s stupid grudge against him after races where Max had tried every way to slow him down or to play bumper cars in the karts during intense turns.

“But Max always wants to talk to him after. Like - “ Alex took a breath to exaggerate, both George and Lewis watched him with amusement. ”He doesn’t talk to Charles before the race, he’s SO aggressive against Charles during the race AND THEN he’s rambling about how good the race was to Charles- after trying to kill him for 12 laps.” This was true, to the point where Charles had to text Alex, George, Pierre or his parents to come and get him away from the Dutch boy. Charles was determined that Max was taunting him with his skill but Max would ramble at him even after placing below Charles.

“Max doesn’t have any friends but he’s thinks Charles is. Or he wants him to be, I don’t know.” George quipped at his dad but he should have known that his dad would shoot him a look of disapproval over being rude about someone his dad didn’t even know.

“I’m just saying racing is the only thing he talks about so he would not interesting to be friends with, I don’t even know what else he does.“ He clarified. George was sure that Max had nothing interesting about him, like a pure bred dog that was made for racing and nothing else. Though, there was a lot of people who thought that of him and his brother too, the product of two world champions. But Max had no friends AND his dad has never won anything, so it must have been worse for him.

“I think he likes football?” Alex suggested.

“Everyone likes football, Alex. Max has THE default personality.”

“Ok then, what do you like other than karting? Gardening?” Alex saw George cutting the bushes outside of the Hamilton family home before and he still hadn’t let it go.

“… shut up Alex, you don’t-”

“Okay boys, it’s time to go, get your stuff - Alex, don’t forget your room key.” Lewis got up, ushering the two young men out of their hotel room before they start a whole new argument.

—

Qualifying went fine, Alex got pole as per usual - being one of the older drivers and in his Red Bull sponsored kart. Charles had P2, George was P3 and Latifi got P6 with Max Verstappen tailing him into P7. It was strange, Max hadn’t finished below P4 in quali for the whole past season and now he was sulking as they wrote down his time before their 30 minute break before the race. As George walked to his dad and coach for a debrief, he could see the Dutch boy being pulled away from the judges by his father. Jos Verstappen had on a furious expression, with his nose flaring. He looked similar to a giant moose as he breathed with his nostril growing big and then small. For a second, George paused in the small crowd of kids as they dispersed to their coaches and parents, and wanting to laugh at Jos Verstappen’s appearance - but the entertaining sight was quickly doused by yelling. Thankfully, or not, Jos had pulled Max behind their motorhome to shout at him, next to several other vans that hid them mostly - except from George’s keen eye.

George had seen Jos and Max have very tense exchanges after Max loses out on first, usually though it was mostly a glare or a quick shove on Max and a harsh, spitty sentence in Dutch that probably meant “get the kart in the truck,” in George’s head. Most of these moments happened when they were younger - like around 8-10 years old but since then Max had mostly just disappeared eyes whenever he wasn’t on the racetrack.

Jos yelled in Dutch, swinging his hands around - Max didn’t flinch though, even though there was very little space between him and his father. His face was almost blank, except for his slightly widened eyes - his eyes darting around his dad’s face and following the movement of his tense brow. Even though he didn’t really react, George could tell he was absorbing every single word Jos was spewing at him. When Jos stopped his words, Max glanced down at his shoes. The silence was rough and it was pulling everything into it - especially George’s attention. It was a long and quiet 5 seconds until Jos decided to raise his hand and break any sense of composure an adult his grand age should have and hit Max’s helmet out of his arm onto the ground before grabbing Max’s collar to pull it up.

“Fuck up one more time and Je hebt alles verpest. Alles.”

When Jos let Max go, George could see Max’s eyes from his side profile. No tears. But his eyebrows were lowered. He was angry.

It was only when Max started to walk in his direction, George realised he had forgot about his own father.

“Where were you? C’mon, we have 20 minutes - so how did the kart feel in that 3rd corner because you went a bit wide there?” His dad asked as George approached the Williams tent jogging. He didn’t tell him about Max but he did wonder what he would do if his dad did know about it.

—

This race was the Max Verstappen show. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that if there were any scouts from single seater teams in the stands - they’d be mighty impressed by what the kid had done today. In the last lap, Max had already made up 5 places - overtaking George just before - but when he braked so much later than Alex and Charles, there were cheering amongst some of the crowd. When the three went up for the podium, Max had a great smile on his face, George watched Alex and Charles shower the dutch boy in the sparkling apple cider.

“Well deserved, that was a mad race wasn’t it.” Lewis turned up behind George, putting a hand on his shoulder. George shrugged it off. It was quite impressive- one of the most impressive performances from a karting race like this actually. But as soon as Max got off the podium, he put the bottle and wreath on the ground neatly and handed his trophy off to his coach as his father’s shadow followed. The next time Max turned around and George actually saw his face, it was devoid of the joy from earlier - being debriefed by his father about what there was to be done next time.

A machine.

Maybe being a purebred dog wasn’t so bad. And if the son of Jos Verstappen, winner of 0 Grand Prixs, could such a hunter - what was stopping George when he’s the son of world champions.

Chapter Text

Trying to get your busy dad to stop playing nice with you was harder than George had imagined it being.

Everyday, the boy has tried to shove his family away in a typical teenage manner - hoping that they would get a hint that he was in a phase of his life that required less attention. Not showing up for dinners as he stayed at his friend’s late after school. Being on the phone with Alex during his free time when he HAS to be in his house - being watched by his dad. He even tried to go to a race by himself, trying to hire his cousins to drive him there but he even failed at that. Apparently his dad wasn’t into cliches that teens were emotionally distant and tried to get George to spell out what he was feeling. Lewis was interrupting his practices with check ups more and more often - personally hitching the ride with him and his coach to the the track only a 15 minutes from their home. Lewis was also asking George to come along for race weekends more, stating the reason was for him to see how mechanics worked. Kimi went with their dad most weekends but George didn’t see the point of being under surveillance for what was the most enjoyable days of the week, when, instead, he could just train.

“Kimi’s having a race in Nice, I have a race in Hungary. You can’t just stay here by yourself, George.” Lewis stared at him hard, some desperation seeped into his voice as he plead with his older son. He cornered George after dinner during Tuesday, it’s been a question that he’d been boring George with the past three days and it had finally come to a head. The kitchen cupboard behind his dad’s head was suddenly very interesting as George finished putting his dishes into the sink next to him.

“Why not? I have a race in two weeks, I can’t just screw off and not practice for a weekend. Unless you want me to race in Kimi’s race for toddlers or let me hop into your car for free practice one?” George huffed quietly agitated, it was probably the longest sentence he’s given his dad in weeks - more than the familiar grunts and the variations on “can I finish my work/practice/lap/homework now?” Immediately, he could see his dad tense up but his patience seemed to still him again, lowering his eye brows and breathing deeply.

For some reason Lewis’ patience never ran out, George had been throwing everything at his dad’s everlasting tolerance for bullshit but nothing seemed to work. George was aware some videos and audios of his dad losing it during races in his younger days but those became rare a long time ago. Nothing George would do seemed to trigger him into yelling anymore.

“Your papa would like to see you, y’know. Decide tonight and finally text him back on your decision, please. And do make a decision before I send you to your grandparents in Stevenage - where you won’t see a go-kart until next week.” Lewis sighed as he turned to walk towards Kimi at the living room table, working on his sums or something equally as unimportant. George cringed at the thought of Stevenage and it’s concrete grey skies.

Nico had texted him a good while ago, when Kimi confirmed his registration on that race in Nice this month. George hadn’t said anything to him. In fact, he hadn’t spoken to him in weeks after he’d failed to turn up at Lewis’ race at Spa - even when he promised to be there. But George was not mad at him for that, he was continuing the trend of shutting the unnecessary voices out of his very busy life - not that Nico had a very loud voice in his life to begin with anyway. Whenever Kimi would try to pass George the phone to hear his papa shove some advice his way saying something along the lines of “I watch that race replay and you took the first corner better than everyone but when Charles challenged you the next lap there…” George would have to hand the phone right back to his little brother. He hoped that when he makes it to Formula One, Nico was not still doing commentary.

However, maybe, just to wound his dad, he’ll take up Nico’s offer. Even though, George was sure it was going to be uneventful as he’s seen Kimi drive around in laps more than he’ll like already.

—

When Nico pick up Kimi and George from the Nice Airport that Friday night, Kimi quietly clung to his side - smiling like George used to when he saw his papa at the Nice airport whenever he’d visit too. George brought along his French textbook, hopefully to embarrass his papa with but all Nico did was smirk at the sight of it.

“You guys want to grab pizza before we head back home?”

Home was a strong word but yes. The Monaco apartment that he and their dad shared for 8 years before they abandoned their relationship. Kimi probably didn’t remember then as George forgot most things about Monaco after turning 7 years old but he remembered the blue sky meeting the sea outside his childhood bedroom window. He remembered his dads go around their apartment at lightning speed during the Monaco GP but he never liked it. His first memory of that race was when they came home not speaking to each other - saying separate goodnights from then on. The evening after the 2015 Monaco GP was the first time George heard them raise their voices at a full volume. He was 5.

Now it’s just the place they went whenever Nico found it convenient to host them.

That might be a bit unfair but… he didn’t know anything about what Nico had been doing or what the hell “Rosberg Ventures” was - no one cared to explain it to him and he didn’t bother to understand what it was that kept him away.

Kimi seemed to have a better time, which was good for him. He wasn’t that familiar with Monaco, everything was newer for him. He was a clean slate that their parents seemed to do a good job with. Kimi was just so kid-like, normal, even if they were only 4 years apart. Not stuck up or whatever people would call George.

When they’re having pizza though, you probably wouldn’t be able to tell that Kimi was the good one due to tomato sauce all over his mouth and nose.

“Slow down, we don’t want you choking before your race.” Nico bit back an amused laugh when he patted his younger son’s wrist as Kimi rabidly devoured his next slice of pizza. George scoffed quietly, sometimes he wondered if Kimi was faking it.

They got back to Nico’s Monaco apartment whilst the night was young, looking around - their papa had the decent thought to set up their bedrooms with newly made beds. Kimi’s room was the smaller one, you could still see the faded clouds that were painted when he was born on the wall (those clouds saw a meagre 2 years of Lewis and Nico’s marriage before the end) - decorating old toys he hadn’t touched in years but see every so often. George’s room was ever the relic though, you could spot a life that was lived. There were old drawings, little picture books with unlicensed colourful marker drawn creative liberalities on them. George did not like seeing this room but never put in the effort to customise it to his liking, it was not like he was staying there for long each time - it was just an eyesore to suffer through for a few nights.

For the rest of the evening, they watched a movie - a childhood movie of Nico’s that George had never heard of (except that one time Lewis also mentioned it in passing). George was resistant to the idea but realised he didn’t want to pretend to do GCSE prep for the next few hours so he sat on the opposite corner of the couch. Kimi curled up next to their papa, not saying much, nervous about the race tomorrow as usual. Nico didn’t offer him advice because he knew it would just wound him up more.

It was… calming, listening to the waves lapping on the beach outside and the hearing Nico and Kimi giggle at a film. It had been a while since George had been trapped into a social situation with his little brother and one of his fathers. Before the film could even wrap up, Kimi drifted off on his papa’s chest, looking as small as always - needing his sleep at 10pm. George snuck a few glances at Kimi whilst the film played on and saw the look at Nico’s face. It was somewhere between complete fondness and grief. It was like his papa loved him so much that it hurt. George didn’t read a lot of books or watched a lot of films but it was the type of love in Harry Potter - the type that protected people from deadly curses. George pushed down the ache in his own chest and swallowed the pressure in his throat. He stared back at the television.

He stared really hard until he heard his papa move. George turned his head around and Nico was gathering little Kimi in his arms, his head on Nico’s right shoulder and his legs rested on the crook of Nico’s left arm - slowly carrying the boy to his former nursery. George’s muscles relaxed a little after he let the tension, he didn’t even know he was holding, past.

Around the relatively small, warm living room (Monaco apartments keep in mind), there were the odd framed photograph next to uninteresting life-advice looking books. Some of those photographs must have been here since before Lewis moved out with George and Kimi - especially the ones scattered below the television. One of the 2008 Australian GP finish line, a picture someone took of the Monaco stands from inside the Mercedes garage and one of George holding newborn Kimi. If a stranger stepped into this apartment, they’d probably believe that a 4 year old and 1 year old still lived here with their two car mechanic parents. It was strange Nico hadn’t moved on at all. Every single week, George expected him to appear on any instagram racing accounts with a new person in his arms but that never happened. Maybe he should be grateful that Nico hadn’t found anyone else (unlike Lewis, who would go on dates with relatively casual partners that never really last.)

Nico came back out of Kimi’s room, seeing George frozen next to the paused film. He walked a little closer to him than before, their knees almost touching before George sat up straighter as Nico lowered himself onto the couch. Nico studied George’s face for a good second before opening his mouth.

“Your dad said he’s been worried about you.” Nico shuffled the channel on the tv to some French news broadcasting, turning the volume down. His arm snaking around the back of the couch.

It was so like his papa to get straight to the point, no “hey, are you doing ok” or “you seem quiet”. George didn’t hate that.

“He said you’ve been avoiding him for some reason. Like you’re angry.” Nico’s posture was not that imposing but he was very close as he sat on his right leg to turn his body facing George on the couch and the younger boy avoids eye contact.

“I’m not angry.” George spat back with a little more heat than he meant to.

“So? What going on then?” His papa asked, flipping his palms open with his tone slightly more exasperated. Nico was definitely easier to annoy but George was not even trying to do that. This wasn’t a reaction that he trying to provoke and suddenly he was on the back foot, a way that he would never be with Lewis.

“Nothing.” George remained mostly neutral, hoping that maybe he’ll back off but obviously he let some irritation slip.

They became quiet again for a few moments. George knew Nico was looking at him, all too aware of how stiff the couch felt as his body tensed.

“George. Please don’t be difficult.” Nico sighed patronisingly as he looked at the television.

There was another pause until George’s mouth caught up with his jumbled thoughts.

“I’m not being “difficult”, I didn’t even do anything today. You’re the one that’s being difficult - I didn’t say shit!” He heard his voice crack several times but he doesn’t stop to dwell on them. George stood up from the couch and Nico followed - his papa’s face shifting as quickly as George’s words sped up.

“George-” Now Nico was putting his hands out as if he was negotiating with a monster, his head slightly lowered to look at George from his height, still wanting to be gentle.

“I didn’t even do anything wrong today!” George repeated, his voice high and frustrated. He let his emotions get to him, more than he’s done for the past few weeks. George wiped his face, not even aware that he had started to collect a some wetness in his eyes. He couldn’t even keep such a small conversation in check and disappointment started to flow up his neck to his face, punishing him with a red flush.

“You’re right, George, I-” Before Nico could get close enough to reach out his right hand for George’s shoulder, the boy turned and stormed into his old room - closing the door behind him as quick as possible without making a sound that could startle his brother awake.

George had the instinct to yell into his pillow but the fabric was unfamiliar and too rough, he didn’t want to touch it. Instead, he hit the light switch a little too hard, plunging himself into darkness, and pulled out one of the wooden kitchen chair from the his tiny desk to put next to the window. He unlatched the window lock and pushed it open. Even at night, the sea air was warm and inviting, though the harbour lights were dimmer than George remember them. He smoothed his hand over the window’s frame, the wooden splinters on it had become more sharp over the years. Some stupid part of him wanted to climb out the window to explore the beach but he was not brave enough for that. He knew he was stupid for wanting to do that but he’s wondered if he would ever be brave enough to try.

He wasn’t sure why he did that. But he was so tired. It felt like the Monaco was constantly holding a tense rubber band very close to his skin and he was waiting for it to snap.

At some point during the night, the window will close and the George will be moved to his bed with a blanket tucked around him and he’ll wake up in the morning assuming that he’d done it by himself.

Chapter Text

The smell of bread lured George out of the his bedroom. He’d been sitting there for a while now, contemplating how he wanted to spend the day. At Kimi’s race, hopefully his papa would be distracted enough to forget his misgivings. It was only one more day and one more night, he could survive this.

“Good morning, George.” Nico watched as George turned the corner into the open kitchen from the living room, it was only 9 in the morning but his papa already looked like he could be on SkySports doing a feature - it was a good thing that George also got dressed before he left his room. He shifted his eye line to look away from Nico and down at the jam on toast that was placed out on his spot at the table. George walked closer to see that his little brother beside him was barely touching his food, resigned to drawing patterns out of the jam on the plate.

“Good morning.” George sat down at the table, eyes still fixed on the toast. It wasn’t the kind of bread he liked, it was that fancy sourdough kind that he would never have - he’d ask Lewis to buy him the normal sandwich loaf enough for it to be known. But he didn’t say anything, he felt Nico’s eyes on his face, analysing every twitch and what it might mean. He glanced at Kimi and he still hadn’t had any of his. At some point one of them will have to have some so that Nico is satisfied so George took the blow - bitting into the thick cream and jam layered toast.

“Hey Kimi, anything we could help out with today?” Nico knelt to the boy’s eye level to see what he had to say with his face - which wasn’t much to be fair. Kimi kept his gaze downcast and shook his head.

“We just want to you have fun, ok baby? It’s all for some fun.” Nico said quite softly even though there was only the three of them in the apartment as he rubbed his younger son’s back. Kimi’s anxiety was not this bad a few months ago but somehow it’s been a steep progression to whatever this was. Both their parents had tried to schedule less races for him but Kimi would catch on and request more anyway. Kimi nodded but George could tell he wasn’t convinced. George wondered if Kimi was going to fall out of his kart today on pure trembling nerves if he would continue to act like this.

—

After, a close to silent, 50 minute car ride to Nice’s karting track from Monaco, George was ready to slip into the sparse crowd of onlookers and avoid his two family members for the rest of the day but Nico seemed to block every exit moment he had by getting him to go somewhere or appearing right next to him. When Kimi finally settled enough into his kart for free practice, they watched him zoom off under the southern French skies, highlighted with hay-like grass around the track - even though it was spring.

George had found himself sitting down in second level of the short stepladder-like stands, Kimi was actually faster than he’d imagined - his helmet bumping up and down as he hit every apex correctly. With his face covered, George couldn’t tell if he was afraid or not. Kimi was driving by the book and practicing his late braking as Lewis had taught him, almost to perfection - better than the rest of the kids.

The 13 year old was so focused and confused by his little brother’s new found confidence that he found Nico sneaking onto the step beside him once again, without him noticing.

“Hey.” Nico greeted him, as if they hadn’t had spent almost two full days together at this point.

“I’m sorry about pushing you last night.” And he was sincere, making it so much harder to be mean.

In George’s mind, he reprimanded himself. “That was immature from me last night, though.” There were too many stupid slates of emotion layering themselves on his chest sometimes, he doesn’t realise how high up they get until the last one comes tumbling down at new heights. But then he’ll think to stop feeling sorry for himself and it all goes away for a while.

“You shouldn’t be forced into anything you don’t want to share.” His papa was just stating common sense, looking at George as if he hadn’t known this. There wasn’t a massive amount of conflict between George and Nico - there was just a slight uptick in tension between them in the past 2 years. George always seemed to get the better end of the argument, getting to see that mortified guilt on Nico’s face once too often. Sometimes George wasn’t sure where that guilt came from, sometimes he was just satisfied with hurting his papa just that little bit. Then maybe Nico would understand him a little better.

“If you do have anything bothering you, we’re always here, right?” His papa tilted his head, his blonde hair almost glowing in the streak of sunlight that was on it. Another thing that George disliked about him, though without real motivates, it just irritated him because it was foreign to him.

“Yeah.” George knew. He also knew that they wouldn’t able to understand anything he’d have to say anyway. His dads were hypocrites. Spending their sons’ entire childhood telling them that losing was ok, even though the main conflict of their relationship being the inability to lose to each other. George knew that real life was about making your mind strong enough to separate relationships (that’s why he still had Alex ) and racing but also doing whatever it was to win. Winning was powerful and his parents hadn’t prepped either of their sons to harness it because they spent too much time loving them.

Nico kept his eyes on George as he gently nodded his head. “Okay.” His papa said mildly.

They watch the rest of this lap as Kimi led the practice. The reflective light of his helmet blinding George’s eye momentarily.

Suddenly, Nico spoke up again as Kimi went through the 5th corner in a forceful fashion. “I asked your dad about you two spending your summer in Monaco and maybe travelling around France, Italy and Greece for a little bit. How’s that?” Nico leaned back on his seat, still looking at George.

It was now making him a bit more shifty, this was more attention that he was used to at this point. Especially because, he wasn’t sure if this was a good idea. Maybe Kimi could stomach it but George had his own life now - he had friends that Nico didn’t even know the names of. George wasn’t sure what Nico wanted from spending summer with him anyway, maybe it was to make himself feel better as a distant father or to get George to like him more but… it doesn’t matter - George didn’t like travelling anyways.

“I… I’m starting GCSEs next year.” George said, not meeting his papa’s eyes.

“Your exams are in two years, you don’t need to put all that pressure on yourself” Nico almost laughed. It was a weak excuse from George evidently.

George scoffed back: “That’s easy for you to say, you got an offer from Imperial” A fact that he found out from Sina when she was telling him he didn’t have to race. “Your papa got into Imperial College London, you know? Not everything is an about being fast, there’s so many roads, dear.” George respected his grandmother’s opinion but she definitely was just tired of seeing men in her life do a very dangerous sport - as if George would do anything else.

“No one is asking for you to go to Imperial” Nico put his hand on George’s shoulder as he said it.

He stared at his papa. Nico was being kind, you could see it in his tired eyes but George couldn’t help but feel that familiar inadequacy. He didn’t even want to go to Imperial at all, George wanted Formula 1, first and foremost, but also wanted to get into an excellent university. George was aware that Oxbridge was just something shiny he wanted for no particular reason other than no one else in his family had managed it. But he could get into Imperial if he wanted, he was sure.

—

As the race started and concluded, Kimi qualified first and finished first comfortably above the rest. There was an ease with his driving that hadn’t been there for some time.

Kimi REALLY raced well. George was impressed and that was saying a lot.

As he stood on the podium, he had a grin on his face - though, not quite reaching his eyes to keen observers. Nico smiled back up to him as he was clapping, raising his eyebrows to try to make his younger son smile more but it didn’t work. The champagne spraying was even less impressive, due to the fact the lack of practice these kids had with them and also Kimi’s lack of enthusiasm as the winner - not even drinking the cider.

When Kimi got off that podium, he was acting like he’d lost again. A perpetual loser that came running to his papa for comfort even though he’d had one of his best races in a his short karting career. Nico caught him as he jumped into his arms - trying to see his face but failing as Kimi melted into Nico’s shoulder.

In his confusion, George became angry again and he was so tired of being angry.

How could his brother be this much of a fucking attention seeker that he’d pretend to be upset AFTER A WIN. As if anyone would believe him. The part that was the most upsetting was that George knew his dads would. It was telling from Nico’s whispers and worried eyebrows that he’d been fooled by his brother’s act as he rocked him gently in his arms like a baby. Kimi had been acting like a walking glass panel for a week with everyone around him falling to his every move - making sure the little porcelain-skinned boy didn’t get blown away with a strong breeze. Now, not only was he a sore loser, he was also a sobbing, unworthy winner.

They drove back to Monaco like this, with emotions stale and in silence again. Nico could sense the sudden storm that had come over George and a sea of fear that had swallowed Kimi. It was fragile ground to stand on and none of them ventured out onto it.

When they got home, they ordered Japanese food and ate around the tv. George had about two bites before going to his room whilst Kimi also had very little but curled up in Nico’s lap. After 10 minutes, Nico arrived at George’s door and informed him about the saved sushi in the fridge if he was interested later. The boy barely gave him a grunt before turning back to his textbook.

It wasn’t long before George fell asleep with his heart raging at a stubborn pace.

—

He woke up to a familiar sound. Quick but small thumping footsteps crossing his room down the corridor.

Kimi was never very good at being subtle and always wondered why Lewis could find him out of bed so easily in the middle of the night. But there was no corner in this Monaco apartment that would be fun to hide in, every space was optimised to its full potential. George’s fury had mellowed a little and curiosity struck him to follow.

This apartment at midnight was what made George remember his childhood the most. Sitting in a dark empty living room that only slightly illuminated by the lights along the sea shore. He also used to sneak out of bed like Kimi, just to get his mind quiet. But Kimi had apparently chosen the shared bathroom to hide in, with its yellow light seeping through the door, into the dark blue shadows of the apartment.

George didn’t knock before opening the door and stepping in, somewhat enjoying the giant flinch that Kimi involuntarily made. Then enjoyed it a lot less when he saw Kimi’s face - flushed and covered with tears. Kimi was sat on the tiled floor, looking up at his looming brother.

“What could you possibly be upset about.” The older boy stated it, he was completely prepared to be much harsher a second ago but it didn’t seem fair anymore. George saw Kimi cry a lot growing up because of course, but he’d forgotten that Kimi was now older like he was - now Kimi could hide things, crying tears to no one.

“I don’t know.” Kimi stuttered, he bit his lip before starting again, wiping his face roughly. He was always much too quiet for George’s liking, even if his emotions were strong, he’d never speak up. Even when George had tried to push him, he’d never push back.

“I don’t know if - if I want to win anymore.”

George paused, he doesn’t speak or change his expressions for a few moments. That was not an answer he’d expect. Truly, out of anyone.

“What are you even talking about.” George’s tone dropped completely.

“When I win, people think I will win more but I’ll l-lose” Kimi choked as he got quieter, watching his brother’s unintentionally intense posture. George noticed Kimi’s head turning back down away from him so he sat down to face him.

Kimi didn’t shuffle away but his eye went to the ground, his hands picking at the pilling of his shorts. His eyes refilled with tears as he sniffed particularly loud.

“I’ll lose- then they’ll be mad at me because they thought I was better- but I’m not!” He threw his hands a little as his lips trembled downturned when he finished his sentence.

“I’m - I can’t be better.”

Kimi looked miserable. Much sadder than any 9 year old has ever looked around George. There was so much expectation of loss in this tiny little kid. There’s no way people were actually telling him this, he must have gotten it somewhere though.

“You’re fine. And no one’s mad at you- because no one cares- you’re 9 years old. If they are mad, they’re stupid. And you shouldn’t care about what stupid people think.” It was easy reasoning from George, even though it heavy weighed on his mind.

“But they’re right, I should be better. Because of who we are, right?”

“No.” George assured him, even though maybe it was true. There’s only a few people in the world who would know about a talent legacy so maybe they just decide for themselves. It was strange, his little brother not being the open book like he once was - now he had thoughts in his head that he didn’t say out loud all the time. Now he might have the completely wrong opinion and George wouldn’t have the chance to correct him.

Kimi wiped his face again, he was tired but his eyes didn’t seem to droop. His posture still wired even though he was only sat cross legged on the tiled ground like a kid. He looked restless even though rest was what he needed the most.

“C’mon.” George took Kimi’s hand and pulled the both of them up to their feet. Kimi just let him, as he always did.

The older boy guided him out the bathroom and towards their papa’s room.

The moonlight making Kimi’s watery eyes brighter by a little. When they approached their father’s door, Kimi stopped a step from it and tugged George’s hand back.

“Are you gonna tell him?”

George shook his head “You won’t sleep tonight if you’re not with anyone. Just go in.”

Kimi took a second and a deeper breath before nodding to continue. The door creaked open and George was honestly surprised how familiar it felt- waves of nostalgia hit him and sent him back in time, again to seek comfort at some difficult time at night. Nico still slept with the curtain not drawn. George realised at that moment that maybe he did that on purpose, to make sure they knew where to find him without the dark overwhelming them.

They got to the bed and Kimi started to climb in, George tried to let go of Kimi’s hand but as Nico was woken up by the ruffling movements- he got to see George being pulled onto the mattress by his little brother. The tug of war lasted barely 20 seconds before George decided to put it to an end and yank his arm away.

Kimi fell forward a little, but caught himself with his hands, looking at his brother- as if he could convince his 13 year old brother to enjoy the luxury of their papa’s comfort. George rolled his eyes, quickly leaning forward to brush back his brother’s shaggy long hair out of his eyes.

“Sleep, Kimi.” He commanded.

George then spotted his papa in the background, trying to piece together what had happened half sitting, being propped up with his elbow and looking between Kimi and himself.

“Night, papa.” George said quickly before escaping the moonlit room, not letting either of them slip a word in.

When George returned to his bedroom, for the first time in his life, he wanted his little brother to stop doing anyone’s bidding. Kimi hung on to every word he’d heard in his general vicinity one too many times. The 4 year difference in age probably also meant that George should be policing some of that, even maybe just himself. And George just really shouldn’t fuck up one more thing in his life.

He was tired and fell back asleep with very little difficulty.

Chapter Text

The whole of Sunday, George thought about what Kimi told him and decided he was going to tell Lewis - whether Kimi liked it or not. He figured that Kimi was not the type to hold a grudge so he took his chances when they got back to Surrey. Lewis picked his two boys up from Gatwick airport, receiving a mildly talkative Kimi, who was recounting the events of the weekend very carefully, and a faintly interactive George. When they stepped into the house, George dragged him and Kimi’s suitcase into the foyer and heaved them up the stairs - sliding them down the corridor like bowling balls, hoping they’d land in front of his and Kimi’s rooms respectively. He watched Kimi run after the light green suitcase into his room before George ran downstairs to catch his dad.

“Dad.” George grabbed Lewis’ arm, pulling the man into the living room. It’s a little awkward, he was only a few inches shorter than him now, it’s different than before and George wasn’t sure if he liked it. From the corner of his eye, he could see Lewis get surprised. By the time George stopped the two of them at the entrance of the kitchen, his dad was watching him, amused.

“Kimi’s really not alright.” George explained.

“When he won, he still looked sad. And then I found him crying on the floor of the bathroom. He thinks he can’t win. Like - when he wins, it’s going to end because he will lose and then it goes around again - or something stupid like that.” George watched Lewis' eyes soften and realised that his dad was almost beaming at him - which was not the reaction he expected.

“He’s got the wrong stuff going about his head.” George emphasised because his dad did not look like he understood.

Lewis nodded, “Thanks for telling me, I’ll talk to him, don’t worry.” His dad patted the side of George’s face. The gentle smile on his dad’s face was disconcerting - a small blush settled on George’s cheeks.

“I was just… I was angry at him at first but then he was all sad and stuff so.” George wasn’t sure why he was rambling like that but he noticed and shut up- pulling away from Lewis’ hand a few seconds late.

“Thanks for looking out for him, George. You guys are growing up fast, if we’re not there, it’s good that you two have each other.” Lewis smiled at him again.

Obviously, his dad was comforted by that fact but George was unsettled. One, by the fact that one day he’ll have to take care of Kimi when his parents are gone. Two, by the fact that he still relied on them. He wondered if it easier to not have a family that loved each other, if he didn’t care about Kimi at all then maybe he wouldn’t need to need his dads as much - or if he didn’t care what they thought of him then maybe George would be free of the guilt that came with being loved so deeply. Maybe Max - who just made karting news again for signing a new deal with Intrepid next year - didn’t have those feelings at all, maybe everyone would be better without them.

George only nodded, lowering his brow to be stern, as he turned back to unpacked his three-day trip in his room.

-

It took him 4 hours to finish the school work he’d been given last week for this missing last Friday’s classes and this Friday’s classes. It should have only taken him 2 hours really but he got distracted with why his dad reacted the way he did to George telling him about Kimi. It was hugely embarrassing to realise something so obvious this late. Kimi probably told Nico some of what had been going on last night - then Nico probably told Lewis at some point this morning. Everything George said must have sounded so childish and clueless compared to how Nico would have explained it. And Lewis was so proud of him for what? He hadn’t seen his dad be so… happy with him in a while (to be fair he hadn’t given him that much to have pride in). His dad was proud of George for being nice to his younger brother for once. George’s most basic duty and Lewis was ecstatic over him actually performing it. Something hot rose from his stomach to his chest as he was thinking.

His eyes started to burn; he kicked his heels into the ground as he sat in his chair. Then he was stomping in a way, trying to force this awful floating feeling away from his body. His arms holding his face, feeling his harsher and harsher intake of breaths. George had tried a lot of ways of calming himself down but it usually fell back to him stomping blood back into his legs and out of his brain. His stomping ramped up as George’s ear rush with blood - his heartbeat taking over his senses.

It hurt, a lot. Emotion surged with such ease around George’s throat and he hated every second of it.

“George- are you okay?”

His little brother’s voice cut in and a knock before, muffled by being behind the bedroom door.

“Y-yeah.”

“George?” He heard Kimi come a bit closer.

“I s-said yes, Kimi!” George didn’t turn around but opens his arms to let this shout out.

George could hear his little brother flinch before stepping out of the room quickly. The older boy curled up a bit more at his desk, breathing getting a little worse before hyperventilating.

He tried thinking about racing. The feeling of the tires under him turning to the command of his steering wheel. His face protected by his helmet from the harsh air that was cutting through and around him.

Eventually he came back down to his body, he thinks he had cried a little but he wasn’t sure. George continued to lay on his desk in a daze, floating into a muffled sleep before he heard his dad calling for dinner downstairs.

He didn’t remember much of that evening other than falling asleep right after trekking up the stairs from dinner.

Waking up at 5am gave him an extra hour before he had to change for school. It gave him a few moments to regulate himself.

He could not afford to be this slack for this week’s race at Milton Keynes.

George had been missing a podium finish for the past few weeks and a win for even longer, sometimes he felt lucky not to be lapped towards the end of the race.

This week was a fully stocked occasion as well. Nico had decided to visit this year’s Milton Keynes track alongside them. He told George about this stupid plan of his when he was leaving Monaco yesterday, pretending it was a normal occurrence when, in fact, Nico had tried his best to avoid the UK in all his travels since the separation. Now, in tragic fashion, both his dads were going to be fill the van this Saturday with Kimi in tow and somehow George was going to perform well in his kart under these strenuous conditions. It was hard enough to keep himself in check when he’s away from all of them, now he’d have both parents looking at him – seeing whatever they wanted to see or believe. Unfortunately, he’ll have to deal with the eyes of all three of them as he tried to do well against the likes of Verstappen and Alex and Charles.

George tried this best to go through this week like it was normal but he couldn’t – all he was thinking about was why Nico decided to come along this weekend. He was pretty sure his grades were good enough and he’d made up being a better older brother to Kimi, in Nico’s eyes at least. It really just left one reason: Nico thought his racing and his “attitude” was subpar. Then maybe the reason he wanted to see him over the summer was to monitor his racing practices. George heard that Max would spend all his summers training at three tracks on rotation, almost daily. All the stuff George heard Nico say about racing for fun might just come to an end for him, maybe Kimi can have that for a few more years but at some point they’ll have to grow out of it.

Sometime during the week, on a Thursday afternoon – right before they were let out of class, George’s least favourite teacher, Mr Checkley, decided to interrogate him after an answer he didn’t have in geography. As the balding 34 year old geography teacher hounded about him, George felt his ears heat up as he heard one of his classmates say: “He probably had one too many go-kart related head injuries to remember rock formations, sir.” The laughter quickly stopped when George shoved their desk towards their stomach, knocking the wind out of their smug intestines.

“George!” Mr Checkley yelled with his whiteboard marker falling out of his hand.

That earnt him a call home and apparently Lewis had just picked Nico up from the airport because both his dads were on the phone. George didn’t hear much of the conversation but he didn’t want to anyway.

Both their dads showed up in Lewis’ Mercedes S-Class at the front of Kimi and George’s school to pick them up – it seemed like they hadn’t argued because George could tell that the air between them was clean and not heavy like it sometimes was. Kimi was absolutely ecstatic. He sat right behind the Nico’s seat and kept tugging at his sleeve to tell him every minute detail at school that week with Ollie, Jack and whoever. To Nico’s credit, he was very engaged and smiling – and so was Lewis.

Sometimes George could see either of them stare at the other for a beat too long but he doesn’t mention it to anyone. To acknowledge something like to anyone that would be to fill himself with a little too much hope.

But it was very scary, like the both of them had forgotten what had happened with George. When George started to wonder if they really called his parents are if Checkley was just bluffing – Lewis gave him a pointed look.

Like he felt sorry for him.

It became more evident when he reached behind his driver seat to squeeze George’s hand.

“Talk later.” George heard Lewis say faintly as Kimi continued to ramble at Nico.

--

The whole evening went by in a flash, George was in his own mind for most of it. Trying to find out what the hell was wrong with his parents and what they wanted from him. At the end of dinner, George couldn’t quite remember if he ate but it didn’t matter because he wasn’t hungry. When Nico was dragged away by Kimi for a bedtime cuddle – Lewis and George loaded the dishes into the washer.

Lewis started speaking as he put the last dish on his side of the kitchen counter in it.

“I know you’ve been having a rough time lately, Georgie. So the pushing a table into some kid, who was probably being a pain, I’ll excuse.”

“What?” George coughed as he put the last spoon into the washer before closing the machine.

“In return, would you tell me how you’re feeling?”

George looked away from Lewis immediately. This again, of course. Should have seen it from a mile away that both his parents still wanted him to talk about whatever. He doesn’t speak, biting his lip a little. Lewis just lets him sit in the silence.

“How about just this weekend? You have a race this weekend and Nico’s here. It’s quite a lot.”

“Then why did you invite him then.” George replied frustrated and embarrassingly fast.

“He wanted to come see you. He misses both of you.”

“I saw him not even a 5 days ago, he’ll survive.”

George could tell that Lewis wanted to sigh but he held it in. The churning of the machine beside him started to get louder as Lewis tried to come up with something to say. George knew all the half-truths he was going to spew, every lie that Lewis wants him to sweetly accept like he was still 7.

Instead of pushing though, Lewis pulled George into a hug.

He would swear on his life, George wanted to push him off – but he hadn’t had very good sleep for the past few days and his energy was at an all time low, so it wasn’t the worst thing to have warmth surround him a little bit. Lewis’ arms held his son’s shoulders and his right hand pressed into his hair – smoothing the knots. George breathed when he felt his dad’s lungs expand and deflate. Every time air passed through his lungs, he got a little more boneless even though he was still on his feet. They stay like this for a little while and George felt the night dim.

“Want to watch Love Island with me? There’s a new episode tonight or something.” Lewis suddenly said and George remembered that he was still supposed to be awake.

“You’ve seen Love Island?” George pulled away incredulously.

“I haven’t – but it can’t be that bad.” His old OLD dad smiled cheekily at him as George wiggled out of his grasp.

“No thanks, dad.” George blinked and picked up his phone from the side to put in his pocket. He almost missed the way the edges of Lewis’ smile faded.

“Alright. Don’t stay up too late, we’re leaving at 10 tomorrow so come down at 9 for breakfast.” Lewis gave the clock a look and spotted a 10pm.

That’s right. He still had to race the day after tomorrow. If he had a choice at that moment, he’d rather curl up in the kitchen with a cup of hot chocolate and listen to Lewis discuss strategies over the phone with Bono or Toto. And that scared him. He wasn’t in the right mind to race and it was going to mess with him.

Everything was so fuzzy and far away from him at that moment.

-

Somehow he got himself upstairs to his bedroom, collapsing into his unmade bed. He turned on his lamp and reached for his notebook on his bedside table with all his racing notes and drawings of racetracks and where to brake on them. He wanted to pick up his pencil too but it was on his desk instead. Nico walked into the room right on time to see George with his hand outreached for a pencil that was a good metre from his current laid-down position.

“Hello to you too, Mr. George.” Nico grinned at George’s silly position. He was so light today. Even George could tell that either his papa was high on drugs or that he was actually enjoying being in the UK.

“Pass me my pencil.” George told him, pointing at the pink one on top of his pile of reused physics homework.

Nico passed it along and – uninvitedly – sat on George’s bed as his elder son sat up to write some notes down, but nothing came to mind so he just stared back at his papa. Nico was having a long wide look around his room.

“What.” George rolled his eyes slightly as his papa wasn’t looking.

“We’ve got to redecorate your Monaco bedroom, don’t we.” Nico wistfully observed.

George followed his gaze to the skateboard Alex gave him but he only tried 7 times before placing it in his room just as a memory. Then to the ceiling fan he spray painted Mercedes-silver at school but he brought home to make Lewis install it. To avoid saying anything, George tactfully stated.

“I’m gonna sleep now, goodnight.” George shoved the notebook and pencil under his pillow and fully buried himself into the blankets.

Nico kind of smiles down at him, before patting his shoulder and getting up.

“Goodnight, George.”

For a very long second, George didn’t want him to leave. The feeling floated in and out as Nico exited the room, turning off the lights – leaving the lamp at George’s head still illuminating with a soft warm glow.

He had to be more cautious tomorrow, collect himself a little more. But he fell asleep without a newer thought than that.

Chapter Text

Around 8 in the morning, George wanted to get downstairs first, to set himself straight before he got in the van for 1 and a half hours. His head still was a little mush like but it was only early in the day.

The boy received the shock of his life when he saw Lewis prepping lunches for the ride with Nico leaning against the kitchen counter speaking to his ex-husband so casually. There were no kids in sight, this was a moment just for them.

George decided he didn’t want to notify either of them that he was going for a run right then so he clambered back upstairs into his room, hopefully without a sound. It was a fragile moment, at any time – something was going to fall out of place and it was going to shatter between his parents. His own reaction to them made him nauseous, whatever they had going on should not mean this much at all. But George kept quiet for them anyway.

When he does make his way down at 9 o’clock, Kimi had already cleaned off half of his pancakes and his oat milk – still soaking in the presence of both his parents as his eyes darts between them with unrestricted joy. George sat himself to eat as well, Lewis’ pancakes were a classic for when he was in a good mood or had an excess amount of time. But George obviously did not feel the same as his dad, he felt vaguely ill staring at the maple syrup that was passed between Nico to Lewis as they chatted. He tried a smile at Nico when he asked if he felt ready for today and if he needed help packing – but it fell flat. George made it through half his breakfast before discreetly bringing it to the bin when Kimi asked some funny question that made his dads laugh.

The nervous energy under George only grew when he was in the van with all of them. Nico helped George double check about where all his equipment was, like he did with Kimi a week ago. A self-assured complaint died in George’s throat when he saw the way Lewis watched the two of them. The long drive from Surrey to Milton Keynes was not that difficult, in fact it was even enjoyable. Supposedly. The four of them had driven places together, mostly after Lewis’ races and Nico’s commentary – Lewis would drop George, Kimi and Nico off at Nico’s hotel or Nico would drive them to Lewis’. However, those were always marked by very tired, long days for all of them – and no substantial conversations were had. This drive to Milton Keynes was one of the first times they WANTED to travel together, first time it was not out of convenience.

It was because they all wanted to see George race.

George wondered if his dads counted the times they were on a car together like he did, or if Kimi knew how easy this dynamic could break – one wrong word and George felt the world could cave in. In the meantime, he just tried to chip in a few sentiments into the conversation – no sentences that could show nerves or anything out of the ordinary.

“Anyone going today that you’re looking forward to see, George?” Lewis asked as the ears turn to him.

“Alex and Charles, they’re wanted to come early too.” Usually, races were only Saturdays but this track was very new and wanted some promotion so they invited the karters to come a day early to try it out. It didn’t take that much convincing for his best friends to come down.

“What? You’re not excited about Max?” His dad said teasingly, Nico turning his head to Lewis to whisper, “Verstappen?”

“Max would never pass up a chance to practice. He’s so annoyingly everywhere.” George said with no real bite, he saw his dads laugh with Kimi cackling at his side- and he let out a breath he was holding in.

“Jos has always been a very serious driver, your grandfather always said only Michael could like him - when he was racing.” Nico said, he continued to educate his sons on Formula 1’s late 90s run – referencing some race he watched with Lewis in the mix too.

He knew that Max’s parents were also divorced, only in recent years as well. Apparently, they argued about Max and his sister’s karting in public a few times. But that’s all he heard from Lance and Nyck – and Nyck really liked to tell stories so George wasn’t sure how bad Max’s parents were fighting but it supposed to be worse than Lewis and Nico’s by far. George considered it for a second but immediately abandoned the thought. It was shameful to even consider, but the small lingering feeling in his stomach was the thought that maybe the bigger tragedy made a better driver. It couldn’t be true. Even if it was, he wouldn’t wish for it. The older Hamilton-Rosberg’s guilt joined his nervousness in his throat.

When they finally got to the track at around 12, the four of them found a nice bench near the parking lot to have their sandwiches. Lewis made the best sandwiches; George had his usual of pesto chicken and mozzarella and it tasted spectacular. Even though his stomach was uneasy with anxiety, he still ate it, watching Lewis explaining to Nico which sandwiches he mastered and which they liked. Kimi talked about their school lunches and his loud disapproval of the types of cheeses they use – Nico laughed but Lewis marveled at the absurdly posh children he was raising.

The rest of the day was perfect, as it had been since the morning. George’s English teacher would say “Utopian.” George found Alex and Charles, bouncing over to them with his parents in tow. Their families were there too, bringing three herds of people together. George’s herd might have been the smallest but he didn’t feel that this time.

They took their karts out for a spin at 1pm, staying out in the glorious sun for 4 hours, taking 12 minute breaks every hour. Lance Stroll, Nyck De Vries, Nicholas Latifi and Max showed up as well but George didn’t pay them much attention. George raced Alex down the straight and overtook him a few times – laughing but then being overtaken in the next corner by his best friend again, Charles defended very well too – George tried spotting and predicting his quick tricks this whole day.

During dinner, the three families went off to the hotel they were all staying at – making the staff nervous with all the children that rushed in with their parents behind. Alex with his 3 sisters (his toddler brother stayed with his parents), Charles and his little brother (Lorenzo sat with the adults) and George with Kimi all sat around a massively round table – the biggest kids table George had known. Nico and Lewis had a conversation with Charles’ parents behind where George was sitting, “Jules” was mumbled a few times. From how much Charles loved him, George knew that they were only saying good things- like they always did when they gathered.

All the kids met in Alex’s sisters’ room (the biggest 3-person room) to just play more games – mostly with a huge pack of uno. Kimi was close to tears when a chain of +2s and +4s went around the whole group to layer onto him, George sighed and took half of the penalty cards from his little brother to add to his own stack to stop Kimi from fully sobbing.

It was only when everyone disbanded to their rooms, the feeling of ugly anticipation settled back onto George’s stomach.

He needed to do well, everyone he saw today was going to be watching tomorrow. Anything to extend the perfection of the day. According to Lewis, kids are always looking for the future whilst adults wanted to go back. But George wanted to go back now. He wanted a few more hours in bliss before feeling as if he could fail completely at his own accord.

George didn’t miss the ways all the kids would look at his parents (even those who have met them before), staring at them.

George buried himself in his blanket, watching Lewis reading his book at the next bed over. George heard a few stories of Lewis and Nico being young and breaking hotel rooms, just like this one. A lot of those came from Grandpa Anthony, he liked reminding George and Kimi about the love that had existed. George remembered what he said about his dads playing games and elbowing each other until they bruised but laughing them away. Yet, right then, they were sleeping in two different hotel rooms. It seemed like nothing from their childhood lasted. George couldn’t really imagine Nico and Lewis in the way his grandparents described them.

That cannot be him.

--

The racetrack in the morning was beautiful, the sun was light on the horizon and the sky was a complimentary blue- the crisp air hit George right at the back of his skull when he breathed in. It was cool even for a spring morning.

Nico kept fussing over the set up of George’s kart, insisting the radiator overflow was off. It turned out he was right but it didn’t help George to keep his head right. Lewis’ fitting of the brake pads was perfect too but Nico asked a few times if they were stable enough. George could only take himself outside to avoid the suddenly increasing professionalism of his parents.

Then he saw Max, marching through the tents to his own, right behind his dad. Through the chaos of trainers and parents, he saw Max pushing his sleeve up his arm to put on his glove. There was a hand sized bruise on his pale wrist. It was only out in the open air for a second before it was covered with Max’s red gloves.

Max had podiumed for the past few races and it seemed his momentum was still swinging high. But for some reason, he was still getting hurt.

Before George could really look twice, Max was following Jos into their tent, being handed his petrol.

He was called back into the tent by Nico too. And before he knew it, he was on the track, ready for qualifying.

Every corner was smooth under his wheels, he barely felt the wind – George could only feel the turning of his kart. He remembered every single braking point from yesterday, dotted pass every apex in his vision. It was as if he was inside of a video game simulation by how good these corners felt. Every time his body wanted to move to the forces of acceleration or drag – he heard himself hum and tense his jaw. It was a habit he got from listening to his dad’s radio when he watched his dad’s qualifying laps from the cockpit camera and pretended he could also hit those F1 brakes at those specific corners. George thought about his dad’s professional simulator at home – knowing that this all made him different. This difference should mean better.

So he qualified P1, because of course.

His parents came up to congratulate him and Kimi gave him a sip of the Gatorade that they bought for the younger boy.

“George, that a beautiful esses! You were flying out there.” Nico’s grin was so wide, Lewis quickly agreed and listed a bunch of compliments with equally sparkly eyes.

George tried to stop his heart from aching like he was going to lose this place. He was supposed to be here, his kart was performing so well with a new engine on it’s back and everyone was watching him, especially the name on the back of his race suit. But he continued to have the same pained smile when his trainer, Lewis and Nico gave him notes for the first corner and where people might overtake on this track. Max was P2. He’s definitely going to be biting away at him – but hopefully Alex would keep him on his toes at P3.

The starting grid was lined up and empty tarmac in front of him for the first time in months, when he turned his head to the side to see Max at the front row with him – the boy was completely still. Staring at the first corner. Maybe even doing calculations in his head on how he was going to run George off lawfully (or not).

When George turned around to watch his… family. The three of them bunched up at trackside, talking next to each other with excitement.

When he was 8 or 9, at Kimi’s age, they wouldn’t all hang out like this – his parents would only be in the same room if he or Kimi had to go to the hospital for or if the kids had a race that they both find themselves going to – nothing was ever planned or on purpose. It wasn’t until about 2 years ago – Nico was invited to Kimi’s seventh birthday in Surrey. They both would spend birthdays with either one of them – one year in Surrey, one in Monte Carlo. George didn’t talk to Nico the entire time he was there that week, he let one of Kimi’s balloons out to float into the sky in the garden but no one seemed to notice.

George felt that feeling again. Being outside.

He gripped his wheel so tightly – seeing Charles and Alex’s siblings also at the stands. George imagined what it would feel like to step out afterwards to see everyone smiling at him on the podium. He thought about being able to say his last names without flinching.

The lights were going up, George’s eyes focus on the first corner. He felt Max breathing even though he was a few feet away from him. Alex’s engine was roaring in his ear as well. His fingers frozen with sweat covering his palms.

5… 4… 3… 2… 1

He hit his acceleration hard, his foot slightly twisted unusually. His kart lurched down the straight, gaining some distance from Max. Alex seemed to get Charles behind but Nyck was flying in his Mclaren – even passing both those in front of him to challenge Max for P2. George’s great start flew him over the first corner flawlessly. Max battled Nyck for second as George continued forward with a growing and comfortable lead.

George’s teeth grind together every time he hit the apex, his legs were lighter than usual, hitting the brake felt odd. Lewis told him once that when he was leading, he always pictured himself in front – so he was chasing his own car. George tried too. Overlaying the image of his kart and body in front. As the sounds of Max and Nycks cars bashing around each other became less and less intense, George tried not to look back as he saw himself at the front going relentlessly quick.

The laps flew by but George could feel the chill constantly hanging inside of his racesuit. At some point, Max entered his peripheral vision again. The buzz in the tarmac behind him was fighting to get beside him. George saw the image of himself in front of him again, mirroring the moves of it. Max got impossibly close but the air between them continued to move apace.

Until George saw the image of himself in front make a mistake.

Then he, in pursuit of his own image, caught the edge of the grass at the next corner and spun into the long stretch of green.

The kart doesn’t budge was it sat in the grass and George hammered on the accelerator.

He doesn’t lift his visor when he looked up at the crowd, he coulodn’t see his parent’s faces but, like a lot of the crowd, they were standing up to see him struggling.

Everything had been suspiciously good and George’s abilities apparently had enough; he gave out.

George’s skin tingled with mortification, the lightness of his suit suddenly felt like it was choking him. He stood up and jumped out from his kart, hearing all the karts still going all around him. No one was that focused on the race anymore, the cameras and parental eyes turned to the lonely, unmoving boy, who’s barely breathing.

“AAARG f-FUCK!” He kicked his kart.

He’s never done that before, ever. If his granddads, both of them, were here, they would kill him for that.

Two volunteer marshal members came to help him carry the kart back, telling him to go to sit in the main tent. George had to walk the outlines of the fence, keeping his helmet on the whole time. His limbs were so cold and despondent, corpse-like, he thought. He didn’t even have to try to not look around, his vision was blurry at best from the gathered tears. The sounds of the crowd stirring became louder until he slipped inside the main tent with the stewards.

His parents were already there. George kept his helmet on as Lewis put a hand on his back, kneeling – trying to coax him into taking off his helmet. He doesn’t. Nico filled out all the papers and had to ask George what happened for the stewards. His son mumbled about the grass and getting temporary distracted. George didn’t sound sure and he wasn’t. Lewis tried to push his visor up but George swiftly hit his hand away.

He wanted to take off his helmet, but not here, not anywhere close to here.

George marched away, passed the steward’s tents, passed the stands – straight into the parking lot. He found the bench they sat on yesterday and sat behind the tree that covered it from the sun. He threw his helmet onto a patch of nearby grass – it was a little more dead and yellowed than the ones that took him out of the race.

He could only breathe alone for so long until his papa found him. Nico spared no time, sitting right in front of George, their shoes touching before George violently stood up as if Nico had burnt him. He must have looked a mess. His hair mussed up by the helmet and the dew that had stuck around the strangely cold April atmosphere. His face was raw from the crying he forgot he was doing – even though his eyes were scratchy and his lungs were burning. He had spun out of races before but he’d never done this. He’d never acted like a child. His head was gone.

Nico looked at him with the same pity George was tired of seeing.

“George, it’s only a race. You are more than it.”

“I’m not! It’s not JUST A RACE. It’s not fair! I’m…” George yelled, hitting the tree behind him with his fist at the height of his hip.

“I’m just… I’m just not GOOD, papa.”

“C’mon George, that not true.”

George hit the tree again with his palm – feeling the chips of bark push into his skin

“I’m never EVER… gonna do anything worthy of-” The tree bit into his skin – it felt real. Real before Nico pulled his hands into his, holding them so George couldn’t swing at something else.

“You are 13, you don’t know that. You’re not being very fair to yourself.”

“I’m being more than fair! I-”

George took a deeper breath, the tears rolling off his cheek unrestraint. He wiped his nose with his sleeve.

“I fucking HATE myself” He growled as he gripped a sob back.

“I can’t do f-fuck all.”

“Your qualifying was great and you’ve worked so hard for it. Losing doesn’t take that all away” Nico watched him gently, his voice barely above a buzz of warmth, still holding onto his hands.

That’s not why George was upset.

“You’ll get better, some grass just got in the way that’s all.”

THAT’S NOT WHY HE’S ANGRY.

He took a breath, then George realised, the more he tried to breath better – the more tears fell and his voice trembled. So he held it in a bit longer. Nico watched George attempt to gather himself, his little red face shift with every new thought in his head tumble into each other.

“I’m going to talk to dad – he’s going to be fixing the kart” George quickly pitched his voice up before he aggressively tugged his hands away from Nico’s soft grip.

Except he doesn’t go to Lewis, he walked past a leering Jos Verstappen and a curious few marshals before he found some grass behind the Williams tent and faded into the background.

--

When the smell of petrol got lighter and the whirring of the karts stopped, Alex found him. He joined George on the grass, wrapping his arms around the shoulders of the curled-up boy.

“Hey there.” Alex sat next to him, shoulder to shoulder in their race suits that stink of gasoline.

“Hi.” George croaked.

“Sorry about your race, Georgie.”

They stay huddled between the tent and the fence, the shade washing the tension away from their bodies. It was dimmed; the power of racing had become fainter as they hid away.

Until someone scrambled their way into the closed off area the two boys were in.

“Alex, you’re missing the podium, come on.”

His mum called for him, Alex lifted his head from George’s shoulder, very slowly letting go of his best friend. Alex whispers a goodbye before he steps out of the shadows and back into the noise. George watched Alex’s mum come closer to him, kneeling.

“Your time will come, Georgie. Losses and wins don’t define you; people don’t define you; you’re your own person.” She patted his arm before also leaving him.

In a few minutes, when George heard the cheers of podium finishers – Lewis joined him in the blurry patch of grass he was on. Lewis reached out to hold his hand, George lets him – his cold hand limp in his dad’s strong warm ones. He helped George stand up before holding his shoulder to pull him to his side, almost hiding his face towards his dad. He must have looked like such a little kid. Well, he also felt like a little kid after a tantrum filled afternoon. The hole in his chest still thrummed offkey. Nico found them and held the other side of George with Kimi sticking to his side too. George didn’t see this but Max Verstappen stood on the podium at second place – watching the family of four walk away from him – even though his opponents were already spraying non-alcoholic champagne at each other.

There was very little talking on the way home. They didn’t stop other than for fish and chips at some nowhere town when Kimi’s stomach rumbled, he tried to hide it the first time but it growled louder. Nico ate the leftovers of whatever George pushed towards him. They all saw the leaky red eyes on him but no one said anything.

When they got home, George noticed he didn’t say farewell to Charles or anyone’s siblings or Lance or Nyck. But that would have been too embarrassing anyway and George didn’t need any extra taunting. Lewis made some tea for George and sat with him in the kitchen as Lewis did some work. Nico sat with him and Kimi as the television blabbered on in the background

The night fell so quick but George didn’t sleep. Instead, he laid there in his bed until his body overheated.

When he finally decided to move to the stairs to get some cool air from the ground floor – he realised it was 7 o’clock in the morning.

And he heard his parents discuss something in the kitchen, even though he could only see the edge of the living room and the corridor to the front door. He climbed a bit further down to hear better but still stay out of view. Even in his haze of not sleeping through the night, he could make out the words from Nico’s voice:

“Was it a mistake then? Letting them do this all so early.”

“Karting was always going to be more than a sport they play on the weekend for our kids.” Nico almost sounded angry.

“Especially our kids.”

Chapter Text

George froze on the stairs.

They were awake at 7 am talking about him.

“How could we’ve said no? Neither of them wanted to get out of their karts when they first started, remember?” Lewis sighed. It sounded like it had been a long night for him.

“But they didn’t know what racing really was. What… what it could do to them.” Nico almost mumbled, like he was pained.

“You would have known.” Lewis bluntly said. George couldn’t tell if he was joking but his dad made off-coloured comments all the time. And they were often very affective at stoking Nico’s frustrations.

“I barely knew anything when we were kids, my dad didn’t have half the attention they pin on you.” Nico said slightly agitated.

“Us, the attention on us. Till this day, they ask me what happened to us after your Quali in Monaco or crashing in Spain.” This was what George was familiar with, the poking and nudging between them – waiting for the other to lose their cool for a little bit of vindication.

“You’re so—” Nico stopped himself.

He breathed. “We should have known that if they haven’t stop asking us about us, people would watch them too.”

Lewis sat down with a clink of a cup. “I always thought that they’d hate us if they never had a try. I didn’t… I didn’t notice how much our “careers” meant to them.”

“What if they hate us when they’re older, if they’re trying to get into F1 properly but they can’t - like Mick?“

“They have so many choices, we’ll support whatever they want to do.” Lewis had told George this exact phrase many times but he had never even considered it a real possibility, to not make it.

“But they would have wasted their childhoods.” Nico sounded so sad.

Throughout his whole life, Nico always was more apprehensive for his kids than Lewis. A little more soft-hearted. As a racer and as a child. Nico’s temper was sometimes a little fierier nowadays but George would always tell he was worrying about him as if George was still little. When George recognised his papa’s nervous behaviour in his life, he decided to hate it. He sometimes pushed Nico until his papa had a burst of emotion, even though George would never enjoy it as much as he thought he would beforehand.

He was like Lewis in that way. It felt good but it felt bad, every time he saw Lewis behave like him.

“It wasn’t a waste.” Lewis was sure. George could envision what sort of face his dad had on.

“They— they’ve made friends, learnt how to persevere, strive to be great—”

“They don’t have to be great.” Nico cut in so quickly.

“Of course, they don’t.” Lewis almost sighed.

“I just wanted them to have what I had. We had.” Lewis almost whispered it, remorseful.

There were rare times his dads would talk about being the age they first met. Lewis liked to gently laugh about “the best time of his career” whenever Kimi asked about what it was like for him to kart as a kid, however, Nico pretended he didn’t really remember it.

They paused for a while. Maybe his parents were shooting glares at each other or they may be looking away. George wanted to pretend he was dreaming, to knock himself out and pretend nether of them were losing their minds over him. But he couldn’t. As the coffee machine whirred to life, Lewis’ steps pattered towards it. The lights through the window were still dim, taunting George for his lack of sleep. However, George immediately gathered himself when he heard what Nico said next.

“At least next week, in addition to talking to Kimi’s counsellor, we can talk to George’s as well.”

The boy jumped to his feet and sprinted down the stairs before anyone could utter another ridiculous word. His hands lost all the blood to his heart, his senses cold as he stumbled into the living room. Lewis almost spilt his coffee over himself and Nico fell into the armchair he wasn’t aware was behind him.

“I do like racing. I do, I really do.” George yelled. His voice was coarse from the previous tearful day and a sleepless night. They just stared on with surprise and they slowly tried to process how long he’d been listening.

“The intensity of it - I- I’ll be ok if I learn to control it.” George took a few steps closer to Nico when he saw his papa’s eyes flutter down to the floor as he disagreed.

“George… You—” Nico straighten his back as he cleared his throat.

“No! I know. I know I messed up and I can’t keep my feelings from fucking flipping over all the time but I can!” George promised desperately.

“I will.”

He quietly corrected himself as he saw his parent’s eyes fall from surprise to something sombre. They watch him intently and as Nico tried to start speaking again, looking thoughtful, George interjected again.

“Papa, I like racing.” He appealed, wiping his face again as tears apparently brewed up again. George’s voice squeaked a little as Lewis inched closer to him and Nico leaned more forward in his chair.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, George, and I would never stop you racing, unless you start getting hurt.” Lewis explained.

“I’m… I only get hurt when I lose – like you’re supposed to!” George watched his parent’s faces change when he realised that wasn’t what they wanted to hear.

“I’ll grow up. I just need to get over all of it and I’ll be fine!”

Nico put his hand up, getting up from his seat to walk towards George too. “Growing up shouldn’t hurt like this, George. It’s not a growing pain to… dislike yourself so much.”

“I don’t! I –.” George looked between the two of them frantically, cornered by coffee table beside him.

“Dad.”

The boy looked to Lewis, searching for anything on his face that disagreed with Nico. He had to. There was no possible scenario that George would be forced out of racing, forced out of what he was born out of.

George took his dad’s arm and pulled him upstairs to his room before Lewis could protest or Nico could follow.

--

George pulled the door shut, pushing his dad towards his desk chair as the boy stayed standing – trying to spread his stance as if it made a difference to what he’s about to explain. Lewis huffed with a light but sad grin, standing up to pull George and himself to sit on the bed, side by side. George was tempted to lean on his dad’s shoulder for a split second but he shifted away. He wiped his face again before sniffling in the muffled quiet of the early morning. Lewis watched George try to formulate his words a little more.

They take a few long deep breaths together as George’s mind stumble through the millions of feelings he wanted to express. After 2 minutes of quiet, the only sentence he could come up with was:

“Papa thinks I’m stupid a lot – like he pities me.”

Lewis seemed to have expected the comment, as he made no sudden movements after George’s suggestion, so maybe he agreed with him?

“What did he do to make you feel like that?” He asked, calm as ever.

“He explains karting to me like I’ve never done it before.” George’s anger bubbled but melted back into his sadness.

“He expects me to tell him how I feel when he doesn’t even KNOW me.”

“He- he thinks I’ll just break under this pressure like Kimi. He doesn’t think I can help myself.”

George listed with less stress as he went on. Lewis was studying his eyes again, George could feel the gaze as he focused his sight at his feet.

“He still thinks you’re a baby, yeah? Maybe… he hasn’t had much time to watch you grow up. He hadn’t seen you work a lot of things out all by yourself.” Lewis put his arm around George’s shoulders, preventing him from curling into himself.

“Why are you defending him?” George whined.

“Sorry. More to say, Georgie?” Lewis apologised quickly as his thumb stroked back and forth soothingly on George’s neck.

“He likes Kimi more.”

“George—” Then Lewis really had a reaction, started to defend Nico anyway.

“You both do.”

When George ignored Lewis’ taps on the side of his head, Lewis continued without George meeting his eye. “And why do you think that?”

“He just… It’s just easier to like him. And it’s harder to like me.” George bit his lip after saying it.

Admitting it, made it real. George have thought about it for years. He had had inklings of it since he was very young and as he got older, he felt it got more obvious.

“Can you give me an example?”

“Papa looks at Kimi like he’s happy when he talks to him. But most of the time, when I talk to him, he’s angry or sad or stuff like that.”

When he was 8, Nico and Lewis only seemed to truly smile at each other when they see Kimi, when they look at him, they were just tired. George tried not asking for much but it just turned to him not being seen almost at all. Toddler Kimi (or even Kimi now) couldn’t read the tension between Nico and Lewis sometimes and said whatever he wanted even if they were not on good terms. George would have never risked another shouting match between his parents for something he wanted.

But they argued anyway.

So, maybe, all the hiding, was all for naught.

Lewis didn’t say anything before pulling him onto his lap, he was met with little resistance from the 13-year-old. George was boneless as Lewis tried to make him comfortable but didn’t feel like it was before. He was bigger now could barely tuck his head under Lewis’ chin and his legs had to land over the other side of Lewis’ lap, instead of snug up to his chest.

“You’ve seen us angry and sad a lot more than Kimi have, haven’t you? I’m sorry about that, bud.”

George felt his eyes well up again. It was unfair how easy it was. He buried his face in his dad’s shoulder.

“Sometimes, I thought it was over in 2016. But it’s never really been over? It’s been our lives from then to now. And it’s been your life more than mine, sometimes.”

George tried to understand what Lewis was saying, his comprehension was sort of blurry but he let some of the pain from his chest ease as his dad spoke.

“I’m sorry, Georgie.”

--

George woke up, still in his dad’s arms, at 10 am.

Lewis was propped up against the headboard and had put a pillow to help his arm, holding up George’s back.

He was lighter for the rest of the day. There wasn’t much said, he didn’t want to speak to any of them in-depth. It was awkward and too long but the afternoon past soon enough— even though cycling around their town was quite a peaceful activity. It was nice to hear “slow down” shouted from behind, more than anything. Watching Kimi slowly improve on his cycling skills (stop falling over as they tried to move uphill,) was also fun as he paddled about like a clueless duckling. They cycled home after a pub dinner just in time to see the sunset over some trees as they rode up a small hill.

Lewis asked George to stay awake as Kimi was put to bed at around 9pm. Nico hosed their bicycles down and Lewis brought the garbage out before walking back into the house – both coming to sit on the couch with George looking blankly at the silent television that was playing “Would I Lie to You?”.

“Hey, if you’re want to talk, we can. If you’re not, then we can just watch TV until one of us falls asleep. It’s your call.” Lewis asked him. George blinked and looked at him – then looked at Nico.

They looked earnest enough; Nico was timidly worried, as he usually was – Lewis was just thinly smiling. George was reminded that, in their current situation, this excursion of the two men being almost “loving” towards each other – was new and quite the feat. Excusing what he overheard this morning, he supposed it could have gone worse.

Something inside of him, something much younger than he was now, told him that he shouldn’t give up this moment of tranquility to talk about himself. But it wasn’t like his own childhood was at all abusive or turbulent, peace wasn’t scarce. There were just flashes of resentment from his parents that… he didn’t understand. Lewis would be so much meaner to a meeker Nico when they were together.

It seemed as though they were trying to be better, George still had the sneaking feeling that they were faking all the civilities. But if he didn’t believe in them now, when will he ever?

When the boy, who was sat tightly in between his parents, nodded, Nico asked a few questions. Mostly about the times he’d upset him over the last few months or even years. At first, George gave very short and curt answers.

“Yesterday, when we were in the parking lot, I have backed off a little, shouldn’t I?” Nico phrased it as a question – trying to direct a longer response from George.

“I don’t know…. Yes?” George answered, wrapping his arms around his stomach.

Suddenly, with the thought of seeing Nico sadder than he was already, George was questioning it over again. He could just be overreacting, and if so, why was he shaming his dads for his own overreaction? Nico was literally just trying his best to comfort a crying teenager in the parking lot, who was George to say he wasn’t doing enough?

Before George could spiral all the way down, Lewis took his hand, gaining George’s fullest attention.

“Don’t start burying everything again.”

Oh.

“It’s hard, I know it is, to say things you never thought you’d say out loud.”

“But you’re overwhelmed and hurting all the time, Georgie. You have to let it out or you’ll just keep on feeling that way.” Lewis explained.

The doubt lingered still. “What if I’m wrong and I’m just being stupid?”

Nico answered, George meeting his gaze this time. “There is no right or wrong when it comes to feelings, baby. You have to feel things.”

George wasn’t so sure about that, but he nodded nonetheless.

They spoke a little more as the light from the living room got warmer. George slowly started to explain how he felt about karting, how he loved it but also how winning has been the only way he felt he deserved to be their son. He talked about Monaco, about how sometimes it felt like a bad dream because it made him remember. He even talked to Nico about how he treated him as a kid.

“I know you want to help but… I know the basic stuff about racing. I’ve been doing it for most of my life; you just haven’t seen me.”

George realised immediately what the last bit sounded like as he felt Nico shift beside him.

“Papa—”

“No, I know. But I wanted to George. I always wanted to know you.” Nico smiled subduedly.

“I’m starting a little late, after everything that happened. But I’d like to come over more, if that’s ok by you?”

George liked his family together, but the longer his parents are in one place, the chances of a fight will only increase. It’s still easy to agree to this request though, it was a risk that George was willing to face. They should all grow up a bit.

“Sure.” George answered simply, spinning the tea coaster on the coffee table as he spoke.

“Maybe you’ll do something crazy dangerous, like monster biking with Alex without telling us, and then I’ll be forced to never call you “baby” again.” Nico grinned at him as Lewis snickered a little.

“He tried hitchhiking to a track just a 3 weeks ago!” Lewis exclaimed, obviously entertained as he exaggerated the events. Nico gasped in jest, putting a hand on his chest.

“It was Stella and Jordan; they weren’t just some strangers driving along on the road!” George named and shamed his cousins to make sure they were implicated as well (even though they refused to drive him in the end).

The rest of the night stayed about the same. There were some quiet moments and some light-hearted quips, he didn’t mind at all. His parents, though, still insisted that they spoke to his counselor at school next week – just to make sure he had the full support he needed. George was not convinced but accepted it when Nico reminded him that sports psychologists were important for every athlete. (Lewis joked about how being a teenager was a little like a sport, with adults as referees that don’t have the set of rules but only a vague idea what the goal is. George didn’t think it was a very clever joke but Nico smiled.)

George didn’t even consider the next race he was going to attend; it wasn’t important. He felt the air in his lung settle apace with the air in the living room and he was at peace with it. At some point, “Would I Lie to You” ended and the television was shut off. He sat snug between his parents and let himself drifted off.

Chapter Text

The next time George attended a race was a month and a half later.

His school counsellor insisted that he took two races off, to remember who he was without it or something like that. It was funny to watch his parents agree with Ms. Patel because there was no possibility that they didn’t hesitate for a second in their heads thinking if THEY knew who they were without racing. George had a feeling that every time his parents smelled petrol or held a karting wheel in their hands – they probably had their whole lives flash before their eyes like in those old movies.

The next race though, George had only lightly thought about it. It wasn’t until they were on the flight to La Conca, when Kimi realised he forgot his headphones, so he was restless for 2 hours, that he registered how they were nearing the middle of the season but he was only 8th in the championship. The gap between him and Max was like the English Channel the plane was currently crossing.

However, he decided to not dwell on it.

Instead, when he heard Kimi talk about the same boy again to Lewis, George spent the time antagonising his younger brother, teasing him for being obsessed with this kid. After Kimi desperately denied being obsessive for the 4th time, George pretended not to hear him. When Lewis calmed Kimi down by telling him a story about his first visit to a Formula 1 race trip with Nico, it reminded George of how he had to explain Formula 1 to his counsellor completely (as he saw her twice a week now) and the entire time she asked questions and laughed at his stupid jokes, it felt nice.

Ms Patel also talked about expectations and fame as well. George never thought of himself as famous because he only ever saw people judging him, not revering him. She said that no one who judged him for being Lewis and Nico’s son, really knew him in the first place.

That threw George a little and stopped him in his tracks. The slight issue with that was he’d been doing that, judging someone without really knowing them. So he stopped himself from telling her about Max.

He didn’t really think about him like that. George’s impression of the Dutch kid was akin to a video game character that was designated to challenge everyone in every karting series without a real personality. It was only when Ms Patel brought up “judgement”, had George remembered that bruise on Max. It was weeks ago but maybe it still hadn’t faded or he might have gained more.

Max didn’t play other sports, he didn’t have friends to play with and he wasn’t very clumsy. There were no other factors that could make up what happened there, outside of Jos Verstappen.

The guilt in his chest was spreading as the race got closer. George needs to know how Max was doing.

He needed to tell someone.

But every time he looked at Lewis and Nico, he imagined how terrible it would be for Max if they mishandled it.

George knew what people told kids about bullies, to tell or it would only get worse. Except this was Max’s dad. Jos was huge and much more than a schoolyard bully. Lewis and Nico were only quiet people; they couldn’t go toe-to-toe with a man who was compared to a whale. George did think about calling the police but he doubted they could truly change Jos before he would eventually get back to Max.

–

Arriving in Italy saw Nico find them at the airport with a rented van. Kimi did not seem to be tired out from seeing his papa, even though Nico was in Surrey only 3 days ago, and jumped at him. George thought that, at this point, he would have run out of things to say to him but the ride to the hotel was very lively to his surprise.

As Lewis and Nico listened to Kimi and George explain what happened on sports day at school two days ago (how the 50 meter sprint ended in a brawl between the two slowest runners over 5th place), George watched their faces again. Instead of just looking at Kimi and himself, they were occasionally sharing glances at each other. They were sharing joy again.

George didn’t think he remembered a time when they did that so openly and unashamed.

He hated that his second thought was that he didn’t want to ruin it.

As they went around Martano, they had pizza and roamed around with almost no eyes on them. The best things about being in the middle of nowhere Europe was the anonymity, sometimes it was like a time travel experience with the aged, cracked walls and uneven brick laid paths. It was blissful for a while.

Though, George’s mind kept drifting to Max. It only became very evident that this feeling wasn’t going to go away when they got back to the hotel and saw Max and his parents checking in.

Jos and his ex-wife apparently made separate bookings so they were checking in at different counters. Max was standing next to his mum, holding on to her jacket as she was speaking to the hotel staff. Lewis and Nico, the latter hesitantly, walked to say hello. When Kimi skipped along to follow their parents, George pulled Kimi slightly behind him by the arm, Kimi letting out a little noise that caught Max’s attention as the pair of brothers got closer.

When Lewis and Nico shook Jos’ hand, there was a visible disgust on his face – barely concealed under his unhappy smirk. Then George finally shifted his attention to his competitor, who’s skimming between Kimi and George. Making the older Brit realise how hard he was clutching on to Kimi’s arm to keep him behind, making him reluctantly let go of him. Max only slightly shifted away from his mother but stayed tightly close.

“Hi Max!” Kimi greeted with his annoyingly bright voice.

Max nodded at him awkwardly, “Hi… um, Kimi.”

Kimi beamed up to him. For the past two years now, no matter what George could tell him, Kimi loved how Max battled his way to top. He even had Max sign his hat at the last race of the season last year, it made George furious because Max had just beat him out for second place.

“Hello Max, we got free sweets, um—” George reached into his pocket to grab some sweets he’d taken from the restaurant they had just been to, “do you want one?” He offered one of the mints. Max looked a second more than was appropriate before shaking his head.

“I don’t have straight sugar.” Max watched intently as George shoved the sweets back into his pocket. He had such strange little kid mannerisms (having his wants very obvious to read) even though they weren’t even little kids anymore.

“It’s really good though, dad has one before every race he said.” Kimi piped up as their parents finally separate from chatting, waving George and Kimi to go upstairs with them, the younger boy barely spared a second before running off to join them

Max nodded as he took the information in, George observed his confused eyebrows lower as a thoughtful pout formed on his face – then they caught each other’s eyes. Looking away as quickly. George changed his line of sight only to land on Max’s skin under his rolled-up sleeve, catching a glimpse of a lightly purpled patch on his arm.

“Oh—” George involuntarily stammered out of his mouth as he stared a little, Max immediately slid the sleeve down. He immediately saw the fear in Max’s wide eyes when he lifted to see his face.

“Max, I—” He tried to continue, only to be interrupted by his parents calling after him.

“C’mon, you’ll see each other tomorrow, boys.” Lewis said as he slowly walked further away with Nico and Kimi looking the two boys’ way.

George looked back and forth, studying Max’s face, frightened and frozen. The British boy had thought about all the possible words he could say to Max for the past week but in this distressing moment, he found none of them.

“I— I’m not… I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow.” George stuttered before stepping away from Max and finally turning to run towards his family.

When they finally got upstairs, George was sharing a room with Nico and Kimi was with Lewis – swapping each time they stayed at a hotel together it seemed.

In Nico’s room, George had already climbed into the comfortable office chair at the desk, hugging his knees whilst he scribbled random words and drawings into his notebook. He couldn’t stop his heart from racing. Before he left the hotel lobby, he was of course replaying Max’s face in his mind but he had also seen the terrifying confusion on Jos’ face. George didn’t like seeing the large man in another state of emotion outside of neutral.

“What are you writing?” Nico walked out of the shower and dried his hair with a towel when George found him standing next to him.

“I’m not really, I’m just moving the pen around.” George felt his chest get heavy and his mouth get drier.

George was safe but he knew that Max wasn’t. He could only imagine what kind of impact would leave a bruise like that on a kid. How helpless he already felt under Jos’ gaze and how that could only be multiplied by what Max had experienced.

He didn’t want to feel like this anymore, George thought as he breathed. He was vaguely aware that Nico had asked him something but he didn’t hear it.

He doesn’t want Max to look like that anymore.

“Papa… can I… can I tell you and Dad something?”

Nico’s expression changed quicker than George could have imagined, quickly, he sat down on the bed facing George, bending to meet his eyes.

“Right now, yeah? I’ll call your dad.”

When Lewis was summoned, he brought along Kimi with an iPad that he could play on in the bathroom, out of earshot.

“What’s wrong?” Nico had already curled around George, giving him enough space to express himself but also the comfort of closeness as he sat next to him. Lewis encroached as well, standing in front of them both, watching with concern. George hadn’t even said anything yet and his parents were already so troubled by his tone of voice. He had a self-loathing thought of being a troublesome idiot, but only for a second, being disturbed by Nico nudging him with his shoulder.

“I, um.” George felt his ear get brighter. Maybe Max wouldn’t want this.

“A while ago now, I saw Max’s dad yell at him.” But Max was hurting, it was obvious.

His parents seemed to turn slightly gloomy but not surprised. They looked at each other and back at him – Lewis seemed to open his mouth first to explain to George as if he didn’t understand – so the boy spoke up before he could be interrupted.

“Everyone knows he yells! But…”

“But I saw Max have bruises on him. Like two months ago and just now when we were downstairs.”

George looked at his parents, the mood plunged into dread – like a silent alarm. He put his head down to continue his explanation to hopefully lift the unintended suspense.

“I don’t… I don’t have evidence that his dad hit him but… Max. He looked so scared today when I saw his bruise, so maybe he was supposed to be hiding it.”

“I know I don’t know anything and I shouldn’t judge but I think his dad’s hurting him.”

Nico pulled George into a hug so frightfully quick. George could feel how quickly his papa’s heart was beating. His gentle arms held onto his son, George wasn’t sure if this was for him or for Nico himself to calm down.

“Thanks for telling us, baby.” Nico pulled away slightly, putting a warm hand on his neck, trying to be comforting when he looked up to Lewis – both independently already calculating what they could do.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Georgie. Is there anything else we have to know?” Lewis said earnestly, but very obviously nervous at the prospect.

For once, George didn’t overthink what his parents could do. He had faith in them. He had decided that they were possibly the only people in his life that he would trust with this information. For the following few minutes, they asked George some questions about Max and his relationship with Jos and his mother. George gave them everything he had. He knew that Max’s mum was a very kind past karting racer, his parents had divorced and his mother had moved back to Belgium after that with Max’s sister. George even told them about what Pierre saw Jos do a few months ago too – when Jos smacked Max’s helmet and everyone who attended the Vallee 2025 karting under 15 race heard.

As George spoke, the more emotion spilled into his voice, he got shakier and shakier - upset with what he had to say. Nico kept him grounded with a hand on his shoulder, holding him close.

“We’ll handle it, don’t worry, alright?” Nico kissed the top of George’s head. He still hasn't gotten used to this cheesy normal show of affection but he’ll allow it for now.

“What?” Kimi slowly emerged from the bathroom, holding his closed tablet.

“Ran out of battery.” He quietly admitted as he walked towards his family, going towards his brother’s tired expression. Even Kimi sensed George’s mood, reaching out his short arms to wrap around George’s neck and his older brother let him.

The rest of the night passed softly, George sat with Kimi, playing bluff with their deck of Motorsport-themed card set. Nico and Lewis whispered to each other as they went on their phone to call a few people. As George taught Kimi how to keep a poker face, even though he failed every time, he could tell Nico and Lewis were solving it. They weren’t panicking or arguing over what had to be done, but just they just seemed to know exactly what to do. George wasn’t sure if he was grown up he would know anything of the sort. He couldn't believe he only just remembered to be thankful for his dads.

–

George stuck with Alex and Charles the whole race day, with Kimi tailing them as he was the only sibling of the three that was attending this race (other than Alex’s younger brother but he was still a baby that lived in his mother’s arms).

During qualifying, Charles put it on pole whilst Max followed with George and Alex after them. It wasn’t the worst quali Max had ever attended but Jos already gathered a storm above his overreactive head, walking over to his son as he got out of his kart. George watched as his papa was already in action, intercepting Max from Jos as he knelt to talk to the young Dutch boy. The 2016 world champion complimented Max, stopping the older Verstappen from raising his voice like he was going to, George watched as the frustrated man closed his mouth into a thin line. Nico smiled tenderly at the anxious Max, taking his time to tell him every detail about what he succeeded at in the race.

Then George spotted Lewis take Max’s mum aside, Sophie greeted him with a polite smile but her manner started to change drastically as she heard what Lewis had to say. Her face was a changing list of disgust, affronted and, finally, anger. It was very clear that it wasn’t targeted at Lewis, as both adults watched Jos as they spoke- who at this point was having a barely amicable conversation with Nico about his son’s racing.

15 minutes passed very quickly, as kids started to gather into their karts again, Sophie went to Max - giving him an encouraging pat on the head before sending him off to race with a kiss on his forehead. Max blushed profusely, giving his mother a quick hug and avoiding his father’s eyes. George wasn’t sure what happened next between Jos and Sophie but he couldn’t imagine them having a row in the middle of the race.

Throughout this race, it was very clear that George was much freer than he had been for several years now, the feeling that every corner had barbed wire lined on the limits had gone and was replaced with a very clear and highlighted arrow instead. He was correcting himself with bright reminders instead of struggling over every turn, trying to not send himself into the wall or sinking into the grass.

George fought Max for second but the Brit made a costly mistake that pushed him back to 5th for it. But that didn’t end his race as he cleverly bumped about and over took Stroll. In the last few laps, he caught up to Alex - taking in the inside line in the 4th last turn and returned to his 3rd place.

When he took off his helmet at the end of the race, he realised he was smiling.

It was a weird feeling, he didn’t remember smiling during the race but his face muscles were sore. He had the vague memory of laughing victoriously as he passed Lance but that would be so… feral of him. George felt his fingers and limbs were warm - jumping up and down as he left his kart in a jubilant manner.

He seemed as if he was a child and this was his first race making it to a podium.

Kimi and Nico rushed to him, gushing about how exciting his journey for the last hour and half was. Their energy hummed so highly under George’s skin. All three of them had such mortifyingly cheeky grins on their faces as they recounted the events of the race.

When George took a long breath in as Kimi told him about the battles at the back of the race with Harry and Finn taking each other out. A peaceful karting petrol and tarmac scent filled George’s nose and lungs.

It might not be like this forever, but racing was really really fun.

When George finally came down from his high and started getting ready to find his way to the podium, he saw Lewis talking to Max. George looked around again to Jos and Sophie quietly discussing something in the corner, but their faces were dark. Sophie was spitting in his face and Jos was boiling to a point. It wasn’t something that was pleasant to look at. So when George turned back to Lewis, he saw Lewis give Max his Whatsapp. As George walked closer, he heard:

“If you need anything, anything at all. Call me. Don’t be shy, ok? Nico’s only in Monaco and I’m near London, we’ll be over so quickly.”

Max’s cheeks were so red but his eyes were twinkling with a timid smile as he lightly nodded at the 7-time world champion.

“Yes, Mr Hamilton.”

“Just Lewis is alright, Max.” Lewis wrote his number on Max’s notebook, folding the page’s corner as Max hummed an agreement.

“You know Nico Hulkenberg right?” Max nodded, “well, I called him too, I know you live closer to him so please don’t hesitate to call him either.” Max got redder, muttering something like it’s okay but Lewis ignored the small protest.

“If you need to talk to anyone at all, even if you want to just talk about racing. Nico never EVER shuts up about racing.” Lewis almost complained to him, smiling as Max grinned up at Lewis for the comment

Lewis seemed to enter Nico’s number in Max’s phone now. And it seemed like Max was reciting it, so George also recited it in his mind - seeing the numbers match up with what Max was whispering to himself.

George finally approached them, Lewis side-hugged him as he also congratulated him on his race. The younger Brit thanked his dad as Lewis patted him and left the two of them alone. Max looked at George with a strange sort of recognition. It was only when George started to speak, Max snapped out of his trance.

“I… I don’t know if it was ok to tell but… I think it was important that someone knew.”

“Everyone knows now.” Max said bluntly, it wasn’t accusatory but just a statement.

“I know… I- I’m sorry.”

“I…”

“Thanks… though. I think my mum wants me to move back in with her. Like, I think she said something about custody.” Max said not a hair above a whisper. He looked sheepish, like he did something wrong. George wanted to shake that out of him. Obviously, it would make sense for Max to still love his dad, but he shouldn’t, and it was making George want to stab Jos in the eyes.

“Yeah, maybe that is better though, right?” George asked as Max looked up at him.

The pair of them looked at each other for a little bit, Max seemed to retreat a little, backing up as their stares sustained. George forgot how red Max was. He didn’t think he’s gotten this bright in the face at any point in time that he’s known him.

“Maybe.” Max’s eyes flickered down and shifted his feet a little.

The quiet was interrupted by Charles bursting into their space with a polaroid camera, Alex followed in tow, shaking his head as he came closer. Max almost jumped back in surprise but he steadied himself as George laughed at Charles’ silly hops.

“What on earth is your issue, Leclerc?”

“I haven’t won in a month, George. Let me be joyful, mate.” Charles fiddled with his camera - trying to get it to work as Alex tried to take off the lens cap.

“If you were even a little competent when you're "joyful”, maybe we’ll consider letting you act like an idiot.” Alex successfully took the lens cap off the camera as Charles realised that was what he needed to do and stuck his tongue out at the older boy. George giggled as Max watched on at the two of them in bewilderment.

“George, can you get your family over, I want a picture of everyone.” Charles asked as he aimed the camera at the Brit’s face, zooming in and out restlessly.

“Nah, they’re busy right now, you’ll get them next time. How about a selfie though?” He suggested.

George pulled Alex to his side and scooted closer to Max. Max flinched away and the other three seemed to all notice. Charles frowned at the action, Alex looked at him, a little concerned they might have frightened the boy as Max looked down at his shoes, reserved. But George opened his mouth before they could discuss it.

“Well, now we’re all leading in the championship, since I got back up to 4th, maybe we should commemorate the moment with a picture, no?”

“What? You’re afraid, you’re going to fall back down below Laitifi, Stroll, Pierre and De Vries later?” Alex laughed at him. George playfully pushed his forehead in vague disgust.

“Ok sure, let’s do it. Stay still or it’ll be blurry. It’s an old camera, dumbasses.” Charles swatted at the playfighting duo as he raised the camera to fit all four of them.

George slowly touched Max’s shoulder with his own shoulder, watching him as he did so. Max didn’t shrink away this time, looking at George with wide and trusting eyes as they stood close together. From left to right was Charles, Alex, George and Max with a bustling karting track behind them. Charles clicked the camera four times so it would print out four for each of them to keep. Max held his copy with both hands as he shakily put it in between the pages of his race notebook.

When the four of them walked to the podium, Alex lagged behind to join his parents and George’s family to clap with all of them in the crowd. Jos and Sophie were still not there. From the podium, they could see that Sophie was on the phone to someone at the corner of the parking lot as Jos was complaining at the side of her, like an annoying flea that seemed difficult to get rid of.

George had to nudge Max to get his attention and to start spraying champagne when the boy finally grinned.

—

They were staying at the hotel for one more night before taking the plane back to Surrey tomorrow. For dinner, Alex’s, Charles’, George’s family went out for another round of pizza, they brought Max along as well as his parents seemed to be busy.

It was a very familiar feeling but George was watching Max most of the time. Even though he was quiet, he laughed lightly at every joke Alex made at Charlie’s expense and ate a little a bite by little until everything on his plate was cleanly finished.

When they got back to the hotel, Max’s mum was in the lobby waiting for Max - talking to Lewis and Nico when they walked in. He could tell that she was thanking them, smiling politely but also stern as times when they were obviously touching on serious topics. She seems kind, George thought contently.

George texted Max on instagram as they stood together, a simple “hello” followed with a meme of the blue blob from “Monster vs Aliens”.

Max giggled a little and sent another meme of the same character.

George laughed too, before spotting his dad walking over.

“Alright then, we’ll see you next race, Max.” Lewis found himself at George’s side as they said goodbye.

Max smiled at him and nodded when Kimi approached him to say goodbye too, jumping to hug the Dutch boy’s torso. Max stumbled back by the force the nine-year-old had and by surprise, but he hugged him back.

George grabbed on to Kimi’s shoulder to peel him off of Max when the hug went on for a little too long, scoffing amused at his little brother before patting Max on the shoulder.

“See you soon, Max. Text or call or whatever. If you want to come to the next Formula 1 race, just say because I would be SO bored with just my little BABY brother there.” George extended the sentence to exaggerated - getting Kimi to whine and elbow him in the stomach.

“Ow! Kimi, go to dad!” George laughed at his brother’s pouting face before storming off to Lewis’ arms.

Max’s eyes were wide again, surprised. “Do you mean that?”

“Of course, c’mon, the next race is Zandvoort. That’s easy enough, right?” George offered.

“Um sure, that would be so cool… I’ll ask my… my mum.” Max stuttered in awe. George held out his hand confidently with the grace he wished he had.

Max met him slowly with a handshake.

“See you later then Max!” George let go and started backing away.

The Dutch boy smiled back at him, with a lightness George had very rarely seen on the highly competitive kid, his teeth showing a little as he snickered.

When George turned back to his parents to go upstairs, he missed how both Lewis and Nico watched him with pride - though he did feel their arms cross around his back gently.

As they got into the elevator, George reached into his pocket to pull out the polaroid that Charles took for them. He then took out a marker he had in his pocket to write at the bottom white tag: “Champ Leads, May 23’, Charlie, Albono, George & Max.” He looked at it with satisfaction as Kimi got up to his tiptoes to see what George was holding.

“Papa, can you put this in your apartment? Like – next to the other ones under the TV?” George asked as he looked up to see the blonde man.

Nico’s eyes brightened a little as his mouth fell slightly agape.

“Of course, Georgie.” Nico agreed, beaming at his older son as he took the image, observing it.

Lewis grinned at his son, putting his hand in George’s thick blondish hair with a tranquil buzz in the air.

“It was a good race, wasn’t it, boys?” Lewis sighed as he bent down to kiss both of his sons’ foreheads, having to lift Kimi to his hip with one arm to see his full face without kneeling down.

Kimi’s energy seemed to drain out of him when his dad held him up on his hip. In a few years George knew that his brother would have to grow out of being carried but he didn’t mention it. As Kimi yawned as his head fell on Lewis’ shoulder, saying:

“I like watching you race, Georgie.”

“Thanks Kimi.” George softly responded to his baby brother as the kid snuggled his face comfortably in Lewis’ shoulder.

Nico took the iPad that was slipping out of Kimi’s weakening grasp and put it in his backpack, resting his hand on George’s back as the elevator dinged and opened.

George Hamilton-Rosberg didn’t think his few months of being a teenager at 13-years-old was anywhere close to perfect yet, but he supposed it was better than how it could have ended up.

To ask for more best friends and for more loving parents at this point would be quite greedy.

Even being 4th in the Championship Standings didn’t seem as dramatically tragic as it did before.

Chapter Text

Knowing Our Fortunes Are Plenty Or Barren

Kimi Hamilton-Rosberg gets into Formula 1 at the young age of 18 and his older brother George is hell bent on keeping him safe. Kimi then realises that George Hamilton-Rosberg is dating Max Verstappen in secret - not even a moment into his rookie season.

Things goes sideways and Kimi starts to believe that love too difficult, knowing his parents and knowing his brother and Max.

Kimi couldn’t sleep before his first race in Australia.

So, he went to bother George, who was two rooms down.

He always felt so strange being in a hotel room on his own when his family were all literally in the same building as him (which was why he insisted on staying in George’s room occasionally throughout his F2 and F3 career and at Bahrain testing this year) but now he’s been forced to grow up (by Lewis’ reprimanding about independence) and face the music - or the silence you could say. He didn’t want his Papa to worry (He knew that Nico would let him stay with him but he would get too concerned) so he decided that George would be the safest bet.

Knocking on George’s door at 12am before qualifying was to shoulder a risk of being yelled at but Kimi persisted and stood there. It took George a good 50 seconds to reach the door, making Kimi more worked up.
George opened the door with a disgruntled look on his face but the quick surprise of seeing Kimi washed it away.

“Oi! What did Dad say about you staying in your own room?” George complained as if he wasn’t expecting Kimi anyway.

“Dad’s not here.” Kimi whined as he tried to enter his room, when George’s hand grabbed his shoulder, preventing him from going any further.

“I could go get him.” George tilted his head challenging his brother.

Kimi turned towards George with a disinterested looked, along with some desperation that George could spot with the redness around his eyes.

“Fine, come on.” The older man sighed as he let go of Kimi, turning in to close the door.

But instead of passing George to his bed, Kimi stuck himself right into George’s chest- soaking up his presence and burying his face in his shoulder.

“Oh, hello.” George stumbled a little backwards by surprise.

Kimi’s heart was pounding so hard it almost hurt. He’s been looking at Instagram a bit too much and everyone has been making countdowns of his age to certain achievements like “Youngest Podium Sitter” can only be achieved in the next two races or “Youngest Race Winner” will only be achieved in the next five races.

“Yous nervous for tomorrow then?” George said into Kimi’s curly hair with a soft voice.

“No, shut up.” Kimi snapped, but it was muffled by his face squishing into George’s collarbone.

George snickered and wrapped his arms around the boy too, shuffling the two of them closer to the bed whilst reading his watch. The taller Hamilton-Rosberg sat down and the younger followed, kneeling on the bed, shuffling over to keep hiding his face from George’s watchful eyes.

“You wanna talk about it?” George let go of his teasing tone, trying to settle his tense younger brother. Even he could feel how stiff his brother was sitting, how his hunched shoulders were held taut.

It happened to George and he understood Kimi perfectly. He knew that Kimi was sensitive, even more than him (if anyone would believe that). If the media pointed judgement fingers at George for crying, what could they do to Little Kimi, who used to cry once a day before bed before he turned 13. At least George had until 21 to get ready for Formula 1 but his brother, who was finally allowed to enter pubs a few months ago, was now pushed into this seat with headlines touting how he was the next Verstappen. (George had that too, the champion of F2, look how that was panning out for him.)

Kimi stayed silent, hanging on to his brother. He’s been this clingy like since George started to not be home as often after his F1 career started. And over time, George let him cling.

“Okay.” George whispered, laying his brother down. Kimi clung on to his brother’s shoulders, not wanting to feel the cold of the AC by himself – even when he’s in a fluffy white bed of high hotel quality.

“You’re going to have to let go, Kimi, I have to turn off the lights.” George laughed lightly, moving his elbow to the side, shifting his weight to touch the switch above the bedside table.

When the room returns to night, the moon shone through the gaps of the curtains. The yellow warmth from the hotel lights transferred into the warmth between a cuddly Kimi and his gangly older brother.

“Please go to sleep, okay? Dad will kill me if you even yawn once tomorrow.” The older man said in the dark, only seeing the highlights of his younger brother’s eyes lashes that seemed to be closed.

Kimi hummed a tired agreement of some kind before burrowing down in the mattress with thick covers over him. George smiled in the dark, fond eyes looking over the kid’s young face. It was unreal to him that his TINY LITTLE brother was going to be in a real Formula 1 qualifying tomorrow, the concept was frightening to believe. There were many times in the past two months that George has complained about this fact to his parents. Lewis had told him that this was going to happen, whether he liked it or not, Kimi was going to grow up. Nico had told him, if it comforted George, he will just have to look after him to the best of his ability. Neither of them helped with the feeling, especially since they weren’t sure about that either.

George combed his fingers through his brother’s curls as Kimi’s breaths started to even out, trying to memorise the sight of the last night Kimi’s going to be a true kid.

—

Sometime, during Kimi’s sleep, he stirred to semi consciousness when he heard some voices far from him. When his senses came back into his sleepy body, he realised that there was no warmth or brother next to him.

Kimi shot up—adrenaline swallowing his heart whole. His wide eyes spotting two shadows at the door, outlines highlighted by the light in the hallway.

He squeaked out a disoriented “George?”

He then heard a small “shit” that was followed by a larger shadow, now appearing as George, turning around and speeding toward him.

“Yeah, it’s me, it’s alright.” George sat on his side of the bed, holding Kimi’s shoulder and the back of his head, threading through his curly hair.

“Wha- where were you?” Kimi stammered, avoiding the blaring light from the hotel hallway, too bright for Kimi’s eyes at the moment.

“I’m just chattin with a friend at the door. It’s alright, go back to sleep.” He urged, he was used to Kimi waking up and feeling afraid because something had changed- like someone rearranged all the furniture in the room without him knowing.

“Oh, ok.” The littlest person in the room nodded fuzzily, leaning into his brother’s touch a little.

As he melted back into bed, George patted his shoulder a little before getting up to walk again, sleep already washing over himself again. Kimi could hear a faint Dutch accent in the background. When he opened his eyes a little, whilst lying on his side, he saw the figure of a stocky, shorter man brightly contrasting George’s shadowy tall figure as he stood in the hallway, illuminating Kimi’s vision like a lamp.

Kimi felt a cloudy smidge of embarrassment to have the best driver of a whole generation see him need his brother’s reassurance to sleep but he continued to blurrily watch their interaction. George shifted back into place with Max Verstappen, each of them occupying one side of the door frame. Kimi could see Max goofily grin at his brother, doubling over with stifled laughter over something he said. They talked, their faces were closer together than Kimi thought they ought to be.

As Kimi faded back to sleep, he swore that one of them leaned in and…

There's more in the first chapter of This Next Fic :)

(I wrote 5k words for the first chapter LOL - I need to recharge)