Work Text:
Italy - Monza 2026
George gets p2. In some eyes a good place, a podium and a fairly good race, on paper but this isn’t paper and George isn't some eyes. He felt that position slipping the minute Kimi swarmed his mirrors.
George knew better than to act like this. The media would tear into him for anything he does revolving around Kimi and Mercedes.
He was perfectly PR trained, needed no talking to about abruptness in interviews, to Mercedes he was the image of a perfect PR driver. Their little lamb they showed in the light but when it was dark and there was no one to show he was forgotten as if he was a trophy driver, only used when needed and when not thrown to the side until they needed him again.
So when George came out of his car and to the little stands where water and towels were left out he decided to let the ‘perfect Mercedes family’ facade crack. He didn’t go to congratulate Kimi. In fact he stood speaking to a Mercedes member drinking his water and drying the sweat from his hair and face.
This followed until the cooldown room where Max could feel the tension radiating off George. By now, he knew George and his personality after a race. Max knew even though he grabbed a podium, this wasn’t enough for George, he wanted to feel loved by the crowd when he walked up to that p1 stage and lately he has not been getting that.
Max spent a small amount of time on the internet looking at what they were saying. At first he didn’t mean to, his sister told him about this viral recipe she said he would love and that’s the only reason why he opened any social media platform. He didn’t usually care for them, people said the most shit in the world so he knew not to care but when he opened TikTok he was met with a video about George. He knew better and that he should scroll but it hooked him. The person in the video was talking about George and how he has no chances at a WDC and he will always be the second option for Mercedes no matter what.
Max saw red after listening to that, his relationship with George wasn’t anything normal but for him it meant a lot. Yes they are rivals but from time to time when one can’t sleep or one needs to clear their mind they always drift to each other. Max found it special but he would never admit that to George because he didn’t know if George felt the same.
That all aside, he went on a Twitter mission. He stayed up for 40 minutes just scrolling through forums and tweets about George. Some were nice and sweet, talking about how George was a great driver and their favourite but they were that few about George talking about how he was a ‘whiny driver’ and that ‘he should go in a corner and cry if F1 was too overwhelming for him’. Max was genuinely pissed off by these low lifers who didn’t know what they were talking about.
George was the most caring person he met. Even after they had their rivalry George apologised to Max for how he acted during that season and from there it went up hill for them. George knew about things no else did and Max knew things about George he never told anyone. They both knew they wouldn’t go blabbering on so what was said between them stayed there in their little bubble of dimmed hotel lights and nights entangled in each other.
George is standing on that 2nd place stand listening to the Italian anthem play as his heart shattered into a million pieces. ‘That should’ve been my anthem’ he thought as he felt an emptiness filling up in his heart. The job that once brought him exhilaration and pride now fills his heart with an irreparable pain.
He heard the boos as he walked onto that p2 place, he wished he could say it didn’t bother him, but it did. More than he would like to admit. Those were fans. People who sat watching the entire race and still chose to boo him as he walked to take the 2nd stand.
His mind was full of everything and nothing at the same time. George barely processed the champagne spray as Max and Kimi drenched each other as Max moved to drench George in champagne he did not feel a thing. That p2 trophy weighed a million pounds as if it was placed in his hands. The touch is cool but not in any way comforting but more actually more horrifying. This will stick with him no matter what. The loss of p1, the emptiness of this entire race, the weight of having to plaster on that fucking fake PR smile as he does his media duties passsing every interviewer and their bombarding questions and unforgiving analysis on the race.
“George, hey wait up.” A voice filled his thoughts as they peeled away from the podium. The p1 place had his name on it but he didn’t get to stand it.
“Okay wait up, seriously.” That Dutch accent filled his mind again.
He couldn’t bear to understand why Max wanted to speak to him. Their relationship was far from perfect actually to sum their relationship up it was as if a car dnf and the red flag came out. Their relationship was far from normal and healthy.
After they get past the stairs, George feels a hand pull him into a dark corner where no one could see and no cameras dared to look. George finally looks up to see the Dutchman holding his shoulders. Their closeness made his stomach turn, Max’s hand on his shoulder warm and well in a way loving.
“What max. What do you want now? More games or perhaps to mock me.” George snapped, daring to look Max in the eye. George’s eyes were red rimmed as he nearly cried on that podium but held himself back because he was already getting booed there was no way he would let them see how they affected him.
Max didn’t say anything, just slid his arms around George. The warm presence of someone, his someo- he didn't finish that thought, holding him felt more comfortable than he wanted to admit.
Max was holding him close as if he was able to remove all that worry and sadness. George gave up holding himself back and just slumped back into Max. Slow, warm tears escaped his eyes dropping on Max’s shoulder as he buried his face in the nook of Max’s neck.
“I can’t max, I really can’t.” George spoke softly after a moment, voice feeling smaller and he held Max.
“Oh George,” The way he said his name, so soft, so comforting. “Yes you can schat. Your George Russell the man who didn’t even bother to dignify me with a response after I called you a dickhead on live tv. The man who knows way too much about me and who I happen to trust with my life.” Max paused, pulling George just enough so he could see his face as he continued.
“You’re stubborn as hell, actually the most stubborn man I ever met but listen to me George this all of it doesn’t define who you are. Only what people make of you and that doesn’t matter. They don’t know you like I do or like your family and friends. They know PR polished George not the George that held me when I was panicking over my father and who held me when I had an awful race.” Max stopped as he looked into George’s eyes. They were beautiful and Max could spend the rest of his life waking up to them.
George just stood there for a minute processing what Max had said. Max the man who said he would put his head into a wall was now holding him and comforting him in the best way possible. George leaned in cupping Max’s face as he pressed his lips onto Max's, tender and slow and their kiss deepened.
After a moment, George finally stopped but never went too far as they looked at each other. They looked at each other but this time really looked at each other. George was looking deep into Max’s eyes, almost analysing them and Max did the same. None of them spoke before realising both their phones were vibrating and whatever softness was there was gone but not truly gone. It would never be just gone.
“Meet me in my room after your media George and remember you can do this, don't let anyone tell you otherwise.” Max stated calmly brushing his hand up and down George’s arm to calm him.
“And if they rip into me like there’s no tomorrow?” George questioned.
“Then I’ll give them a piece of my mind and I don’t think they’ll find that fun” Max joked as George held a smile back.
“I really hate you Max.” George said with no bite whatsoever. George started walking off to go to the media pen.
“I think you might have mistaken hate for really like and find super charming!” Max exclaimed as George chuckled.
The media massacre was finally over as George slumped his shoulders grabbing his bag and shoving his stuff in it. Usually he would be neater than shoving things in his bag but today was not the day to care.
He said goodbyes as he walked out the motorhome, he got a couple nods and sympathetic smiles with some ‘good job you couldn’t have done better’. Yes he fucking could’ve but this was not the time nor place to even bother expressing himself, they wouldnt listen.
The car stopped at his hotel, thankfully Max and George were staying at the same hotel so it made it easier. He walked into the lobby saying a small hello to the workers at the desk and walking into the elevator. He didn’t think to stop at his room so he went immediately to the 15th floor where Max was at. He walked over to his room number lightly knocking on the door. A couple seconds later, Max emerged from the side of the door hair damp and in a pair of loose joggers and a white tee ‘maybe he did own other clothes aside Redbull merch’ George thought silently as he walked into Max’s room with ease. The weight of the day felt like it dropped at that hotel room door. Max didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to because he knew he always knew when it came to George, he didn’t have to even ask just held George as the tears came back hot and heavy.
Max walked them over to the bed, still holding onto him, as he set George on the edge of the bed taking his shoes off and tossing them to the side. After he had done that, he stood and sat next to George on the bed as he started running his hand up and down his spine to calm him. He just left George to cry his eyes out because he understood, not completely because he was evidently always the first choice but he understood why George was feeling this way and he wasn’t about to deny George his feelings.
So they sat there for a while, perhaps an hour perhaps 10 minutes, Max didn’t care at all he was glad George could come to him like this.
George shuffled slightly and Max was assuming their seating position was uncomfortable for him so without a word he stood pulling George with him and rested his spine on the headboard as George laid down placing his head into Max’s lap. Max was raking his hands through George’s soft brown hair.
The touch was soothing and very domestic as George thought they never were like this before. He had to ask before he lost any courage he had, at this point what did he have to lose Max had seen him at his worst and best he had to know what this is.
“Max” George was greeted with a soft hum before continuing “What are we?”
Max stiffened a tad before easing. He was waiting for this question so he would answer truthfully.
“George, what do you want us to be? What do you think this is?”
“I think I meant to ask you this a while ago but I was scared you wouldn’t feel the same.”
Which wasn’t lying George didn’t know if Mad felt the same so he kept pushing it to a later date and just told himself this was just convenient.
Max kept his hand running through George's hair.
“Schat, why don’t you just tell me and then I can tell you how I truly feel.”
The term of endearment rolled off his tongue as if he had been saying it for years and never got tired of saying it. George took a deep breath before starting.
“Max I think a rather large part of me has always loved you, more than I want to admit. It consumed me more when I opened up about who I really was and the way you just say listening and like now you could’ve mocked me but you didn’t instead you opened your arms and held me and everything you say my name in that way or you call me schat my stomach does about 50 backflips before I feel normal again. Max I thin-“ he cut himself off “I know I love you but I am scared you don’t love me back.”
George took a breath in and out as he shut his eyes hoping he didn’t just embarrass himself.
“George” he did it again, saying his name so softly, so tenderly, so love filled “I don’t think I would’ve opened up about my own life if I didn’t feel crazy for you. Even during our rivalry there was a piece of me that belonged to you. I used to stare at the ceiling after every argument thinking about storming down to your door and apologising and maybe more” Max said with a smirk and George swatted his arm blushing.
“George listen to me when I say I love you too. George Russell the man who knows more about me than anyone else to answer your question yes I love you a lot. I thought I made it obvious enough, apparently not.” Max leaned down and brushed his lips against George’s whispering I love you again and again.
George would be lying if he didn’t say that he still felt a bit of annoyance because of today but with each touch and each minute that passed with max tension eased as they lied next to each other.
The night passed slowly, lights dimmed and their presence kept them warm and steady. After George used the shower and changed into Max’s baggy clothes, the only thing he could wear to sleep because he didn’t bring anything, they shuffled into bed staying close as Max reached over to switch off the lights fully.
They laid on the bed, together, entangled in one and other breathing in sync. George felt max leave a kiss into his hair whispering.
“It will all be okay, schat. You’re with me and I won’t ever let you go.” George felt a tear run down after that. The emptiness that filled his heart earlier, now overfilled with love and desire for Max only.
Max promised to never let go and he would stay true to his word no matter what. Never.