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George climbs out of the car, he pulls off his helmet. Cool air hits his face, followed immediately by the distant roar of Red Bull mechanics celebrating. He isn’t sure if they’re cheering for him or for Max, probably for Max, if he’s honest. It doesn’t change the fact that they’ve locked out the front row together. Max P1, George P2. As usual. The familiar mix of pride and frustration twists in his chest, leaving a faintly bitter taste, but he forces a smile anyway.
He joins the team, standing among the cluster of engineers as Max receives yet another pole position award. George watches Max’s easy grin, the confident way he holds himself, and then he notices the presenter tall, broad-shouldered, with soft, fluffy hair and the kind of charm that seems to be Max’s exact type. Judging by Max’s behavior, the admiration is mutual. George rolls his eyes, though the feeling behind it is sharper than he’d like to admit.
“You are terrible at hiding that you like men,” George mutters under his breath, slipping an arm around Max’s shoulders in a gesture that’s half possessive, half playful. They start walking toward the media pen, dodging cameras and team personnel. Max glances at him with a crooked, curious look.
“Jealous?” Max asks, not bothering to hide the amused curl of his lips. He doesn’t look directly at George, but the teasing tone is unmistakable. George’s hand tightens instinctively on Max’s shoulder.
“You have no idea,” George says, laughing in a way that feels slightly unsteady, like his body is trying to burn off everything he can’t quite say out loud.
Max suddenly stops walking, forcing George to halt as well. He turns fully toward him, eyes locking onto George’s with an intensity that sends a shiver down his spine. For a beat too long, Max just looks at him really looks like he’s peeling back every layer George tries to hide behind. Then Max’s expression softens into a slow, knowing smile.
“Too bad there are people around,” Max murmurs, stepping closer until their bodies nearly brush. George can feel the heat of him, can feel Max’s breath ghost warm against his cheek. “But don’t worry,” Max adds, voice dropping to something low and intimate, “I’ll kiss it better when we’re alone.”
The noise of the paddock continues around them but for a moment, George hears nothing except the rush of his own pulse.