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When George first held Alex's hand, they were thirteen.
They were outside a popular karting track in Northamptonshire, where their knees were sore and scraped from the day's thrilling racing, but their hands still carried the distinctive scent of gasoline and rubber from the karts they had ridden.
They sat together on the soft grass, their helmets discarded beside them, as they both looked up to watch the sky slowly darken into beautiful shades of pink and gold. As they sat there, George's fingers brushed against Alex's lightly, then just left them there, sitting poised in a moment that felt significant.
Alex wouldn't release his grip.
That was exactly how it all started: in a quiet, unspoken way, as a reflection of the subtlety with which everything deep and profound between them had always been.
They are twenty-four now, and they were in the middle of the F1 Summer Break. They were lounging comfortably side by side on a worn wooden pier that jutted out into the idyllic scenery of Phuket. Their legs were casually dangling over the edge of the pier and into the invitingly warm water below.
The sun was setting low, hanging over the lake like a painting. Off in the distance, one could hear crickets chirping and somebody grilling something that had a smoky, sweet scent to it.
Alex turned his head to George, hair dishevelled from the wind. "You're quiet."
George gave a small, crooked smile. “Just thinking.”
"Oh no, that's dangerous."
"Rude," George muttered under his breath, though even as he said it, there was not much real bite or sting to his words. "I was just reflecting on how this is the happiest I've been in… possibly in my entire life."
Alex whistled tunelessly to himself, a sense of contentment settling over him. "You don't have to worry about training timetables or fuss with engine modifications. That's a definite plus."
George bumped their shoulders together lightly in jest. "That's not what I meant," he clarified.
Alex stopped to look over at him, a little smirk curling up at the corners of his mouth. "No?" he queried with feigned disbelief.
"Not at all. I meant, this. You. Being here." George held his hand in the fading light. "It's like coming home."
Alex's heart missed a beat, as though after all these years.
They had been officially together since they were fourteen, nearly half of their lives. And yet, George still had this affect on Alex.
Through the years, they had grown up together in the cramped, cozy nooks of hotel rooms and behind the thick walls of garages, all the while clinging to each other's hands in a manner that sought to grasp security in the maelstrom of junior formulas and the hardship that came with them. They would lean in close, speaking the sweet words "I love you" into their helmet radios at times when they thought that no one else would be able to hear their gentle admissions.
They had made it through the ruthless climb to Formula 1. Through heartbreaks and team changes. Through crashes, bad headlines, and days where it would’ve been easier to let go. But they hadn’t.
George tightened his grip on his fingers. "You remember when we said that if we made it to F1, we'd get a flat in Monaco and a cat?"
Alex smiled. "We got three."
"And there's a coffee machine that I have no idea how to use."
"You could learn."
"I could," George replied, stopping to consider. "I've picked up a thing or two over the years."
Alex's eyebrow went up in inquiry. "Yeah?"
George changed position, sitting a bit more upright, and then proceeded to reach into the pocket of his linen shirt with determination. "Like learning to say something correctly."
The small box he pulled out was not flashy. It was unremarkable, pale wood with an ornamental design on top, two small helmets carved side by side. Alex's eyes blinked, his mouth parting in astonishment, but George held up a hand.
"I did not want to do this on a podium," he whispered quietly, his voice thick with contemplation. "Not on a track where the world could watch us. I did not want the cameras or the shadow of a sponsor's logo hanging over our heads whilst I did this. What I truly wanted was to do it somewhere that was you, somewhere personal and intimate. And this place, it's your home, it's more beautiful than words can describe. And you seem so much happier here than I've seen in months."
Alex's throat constricted, and he grabbed George's hand.
George expelled a slow breath, revealing the ring to his lover, then spoke, low but clear:
"Alexander Albon Ansusinha, แต่งงานกับฉันนะ?"
Alex gazed.
George's accent was far from perfect, but that didn't matter. The words hit him squarely in the chest: Will you marry me?
In Thai.
Alex's eyes stung.
"You—" he managed to utter with difficulty, "You learnt that?"
"I practiced for weeks. Your mother helped me. Lando heard me rehearsing and thought I was losing my mind."
Alex laughed with a tear-laced voice, the sound caught in the throat momentarily, and for an instant, there was a tinge of bittersweetness. "You're such an idiot."
George smiled, gentle and expectant. "But I'm your idiot."
Alex didn't answer with words, not with vocal words, anyway. Instead, he stepped forward, wrapping both of his arms around George's neck in a warm hug and pressing his lips against George's in a kiss that was deep, passionate, and bursting with emotional sincerity, as tears streamed down his face, warm and quiet, tracing a trail down his cheeks. George, in turn, kissed back passionately, as though he had been waiting for what had seemed like half of his life for this very moment to arrive at last.
Well, he had.
When they finally broke apart, Alex whispered against his lips, “Yes. Obviously, yes.”
George smiled wide and pushed the ring softly onto Alex's finger. It wasn't anything showy, just a thin band of silver with tiny initials etched on the inside. G + A. All these years.
Alex stared at the ring for a while, allowing his thoughts to wander, and then glanced up and into his eyes. "You know," he said slowly, his voice soft and warm, "I have to say, you are quite possibly the most annoyingly romantic human being I have ever met in my entire life."
"I had to be," George muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. "You deserve it."
Under the soft warm glow of the pale orange light that enveloped them, they were snugly wrapped against one another, their bodies entwined in a heart-warming hug.
Their legs still submerged in the chilling waters of the lake, the beat of their hearts thudded with an energetic passion, as it was when they were only fifteen, feeling the thrill of falling in love for the first time.
--
The paddock seemed somewhat different when they got back.
It was subtle, but noticeable, especially to the people who knew them best.
Alex stepped a bit lighter. George smiled a bit easier. And there, shining softly in the sunlight whenever Alex raised his hand, was a ring.
Thin silver, understated, familiar.
Alex was not trying to keep it hidden.
During a Thursday media walk, one photographer seized the opportunity to crouch down next to him and shouted out in excitement, "Nice ring, Albono—something new?" In response to this observation, Alex could not help but smile broadly, showing his delight, and he held his hand up to the camera in a silent but expressive gesture, all without uttering a word.
Lando spotted it first. Of course he did.
"Wait—wait a minute," he said, his eyes narrowing as he shifted his attention away from the ring to George, who was only a few meters away chatting with some engineers. "There is no way that you guys—?"
Alex just shrugged his shoulders, with a smug little smile that suggested he had been expecting this all along, as though he had been waiting to be asked all this time.
Lando let out a strangled gasp and sprinted across the paddock to George.
By the time Friday drew near and eventually came, the rumour and speculation had travelled far and wide and had permeated various circles.
Fans on Twitter had taken it upon themselves to examine and analyse each detail in the pictures of the ring down to the minutest, and the comments section on Instagram had been inundated with a torrent of theories and speculation regarding its implication. Alex and George were also slated to make back-to-back appearances on the media circuit, further fuelling the discussion of the drama.
Alex slumped in his chair at the press conference, adopting a casual pose as he absently put his hand, his left hand, on the table in front of him.
George gave him a sidelong glance, clearly struggling to prevent a giggle that was about to spill over from breaking out.
A reporter finally got around to asking the inevitable: "Alex, there's a ring on your finger. Is there anything you'd like to tell us?"
Alex glanced over at George, silently seeking some sort of reassurance. George smiled warmly, nodded slightly, and outstretched his hand to take Alex's in a gentle clasp.
Alex wove their fingers together, entwining them in a soft clasp.
"Yes," he said, his voice warm and sincere. "We are officially engaged."
There was a rush of camera shutter clicks. George coughed with a smile. "During the break, it happened. It was… private. Quiet. Perfect."
"Are there any particular details that you would be willing to share with us?" another reporter questioned, nearly exploding with anticipation.
Alex laughed. "He asked me in Thailand. On a pier. And he proposed in Thai."
There were a few gasps from the media corps. George blushed, scratching the back of his neck.
Giving him a fond push, grinning at him, Alex turned around and told him, "It was truly the most romantic thing that he has ever done for me in my whole life."
The journalist's eyes flickered. "You speak Thai?"
"Not very well," replied George. "But I did master the most important part."
They announced their engagement officially on Instagram that night.
One photo, shot in the warm and inviting Phuket light that evening of the engagement, says it all. George's arms were firmly around Alex's waist, his chin lightly on Alex's shoulder. Alex was grinning in happiness and amusement, his hand raised in a teasing gesture to the camera, the silver ring shining dully in the sunlight.
He asked me in Thai. I said yes. I cannot wait to marry you Georgie. รักนะ🤍
The post exploded.
Replies began flooding in within minutes. They were from teammates, fellow drivers, and hardcore fans from every corner of the globe.
In a heartwarming gesture, Logan took the time to record three different voice memos in Alex's direct messages, pointing out his excitement and support.
Meanwhile, Lando couldn't help but repost the picture with the phrase, "YOU MEAN TO TELL ME I'VE BEEN THIRD-WHEELING FIANCÉS THIS WHOLE TIME??" typed in bold all caps to convey his jest.
Even Lewis commented:
The best news. Thrilled for both of you.
George also decided to re-post the picture, though in a far simpler and less complicated caption.
Since we were fifteen. All this time and I still fall more in love with you every day.🤍
It was on Sunday that George had a good run in P3, while Alex was in P5.
Both cars were strong, being in clean air, and displaying great speed throughout the race.
As they exited their cars and started making their way to the cool-down room, George caught Alex's expression amidst the sea of spectators.
Alex raised his hand, waving his fingers in a teasing manner, the ring on his finger glinting as it caught the light beautifully. George smiled, his face aflame with pride.
Following the interviews at the podium and the champagne celebrations, the two were reunited in the motorhome.
Alex did not waste a moment, he drew George into a warm embrace the second the door closed behind them firmly, his fingers gently curling at the back of George's neck as his lips brushed against his.
"Well done, podium boy," Alex muttered.
"Congratulations to you as well," George whispered in return. "You were absolutely great."
They remained in that serene position for a while, as the loud buzz of the race gradually faded into the distance.
There was just the two of them, enveloped by warmth, surrounded by a calming quietness, and completely lost in each other's love.
George leaned forward once more, gently pressing their foreheads together in an affectionate move.
"I still can't believe you actually said yes," he exclaimed in amazement.
Alex exploded into laughter. "You proposed to me in Thai. You really believed that I would ever say no?"
George kissed him softly, as though he would never release him.