Chapter Text
Deep down he’d known this since a very long time.
He’d just buried it under layers of lies and fears, too afraid to ever consciously let himself think about it, let alone act on it.
Until the truth burst out in flames after years of being suffocated.
He could fool himself no more.
George came undone slowly, but surely.
More and more cracks started appearing in the walls he’d built around his heart with every word exchanged, every look across the paddock, every brush of the shoulders somewhere between the motorhomes. It kept building up as the season progressed until he just couldn’t lie to himself anymore.
***
It was after the Montreal win that he let himself truly experience those feelings for the first time ever. The ecstasy and adrenaline after winning his first 2025 Grand Prix released something inside his chest. He remembers jumping into the team’s arms afterwards, everybody congratulating, cheering, chanting his name. The joy was even greater, because Kimi finished P3! Sweet little Kimi did so well and it was wonderful to be by his side in such a special moment. George knew how much the joy of the first F1 podium meant. He felt like an older brother, watching Kimi with pride.
But then at some point, somewhere among all the chaos, he saw Max.
Max.
He'd finished P2 and of course they had already shook hands by the bolids, but George hadn’t truly seen him then, blinded with happiness. As he looked at him again something shifted inside him. Max must have felt his gaze and those icy blue eyes connected with George’s. His breath hitched as Max smiled with one corner of his mouth, his hair postrace-messy, sweat glistening on his temples, cheeks flushed with emotion. This look felt like a silent truce after some of the heated exchanges between them from earlier races of this season. There was no anger or resentment in Max’s eyes, just kindness that made George's heart skip a bit. But then a champagne shower from his engineer eventually forced him to look away and forget anything happened.
In the cooldown room George focused on Kimi and listened to his excited yapping about how he still couldn't believe what had happened, about how some turns had felt like the best of his life so far, about how grateful he was for all the advice George shared with him. George talked with Max as well, trying to keep up the facade for his own good, but he avoided looking into those blue eyes at all cost, too afraid of what might happen if he only let himself.
The podium was the culminating moment, not only of the celebration, but also of the mixture of feelings that had been boiling inside George since that one look exchanged with Max. The joy, cheering people, the British anthem being played as Russell stood on the highest step - all that felt like a wonderful blur of happiness and yet it was something else that stood out in his memory. As the last notes of the anthem faded away, George grabbed his champagne and darted towards Kimi to spray him from head to toe. His younger teammate screamed with joy and quickly hit back. Just as George was about to turn around to celebrate with Max, a cold stream of liquor hit his back, his rival outspeeding him in the action. George let himself enjoy the moment, closing his eyes as Max lifted the champagne higher and a river flew down his head and neck, his body now fully soaked. A loud laugh escaped his lips and a moment later Kimi joined the two of them. When the last drops of champagne fell, George was pulled into a hug. A firm hand grabbed the back of his neck and he heard Max’s voice just by his ear:
‘Congrats, mate! You deserve this, proud of you!’
Before George could say anything back, the grip on his neck tightened a little sending shivers down his spine and Max’s hot breath lingered by his ear for a few more seconds. Longer than it was normal for a celebration between rivals, teammates even. Long enough for George to have felt how his whole body trembled and without his control inched even closer to Max as a sigh escaped his lips. When Max let go of him, he could only mutter a quiet ‘Thanks’ and didn’t have time for anything more, because Kimi took his turn pulling him into an embrace.
Laying in the darkness of his hotel room, in the overwhelming silence characteristic of 3 a.m., George let one thought wander clearly through his mind:
‘I’m glad Carmen isn’t here tonight’
Almost immediately after the feeling of guilt hit him, stinging sharply in his chest. But he couldn’t help it, he knew that if he were to share this night with her, everything would be even more difficult. He would feel an even greater shame if she were to lie by his side, her arms draped across his waist as his mind was occupied by a different person… The buzzing in his ears was the reminder of the crazy celebration with his team, his body still tingling from the dancing, loud music and sweet drinks. The alcohol made his mind dizzy (he admitted to himself unwillingly that he had drunk more than usual in vain hopes of quieting his feelings) and yet he kept seeing those glimpses so vividly.
Ice-blue, piercing eyes.
Tight grip on his neck.
Warm breath down his jawline.
‘Proud of you.’
George turned in the sheets yet again, hoping to find a comfortable position and finally fall asleep. He focused on steading his breath, clearing his thoughts…
‘Fuck’ he muttered under his breath as he gave up and sat up, sheets tangled in his limbs.
He reached to the nightstand and grabbed the phone. Squinting his eyes because of the screenlight, he scrolled through the contact list until his thumb hovered over ‘Max Verstappen’. For a moment he was sure he would pick his number and call, just to hear Max’s voice - maybe tipsy just as his, or already sleepy. But quickly the reason took over the instinct.
‘What the hell would I even say to him? Get a hold of yourself, George, you’re just drunk’
With that, he fell back on the bed. He managed to fall asleep only in the early hours of the morning, as the first rays of sunshine reached the window and exhaustion finally took over.
***
The second moment came just two weeks later and it felt so stupid to George that it had such a big effect on him. It was just a joke, right? Classic, probably passive-aggressive and ironic, joke from Max who didn’t give a shit about how the media perceived him and tended to answer with the first thing that came to his mind.
It was the Fan Zone before the Austrian Grand Prix. George was already backstage with Kimi, waiting for their turn to come up to the stage and say hello to the fans. He was scrolling the time away on his phone, half-mindedly listening to the other pair of that were on stage before them - Max and Yuki. They were playing some sort of a ‘guess who’ game and it was Max’s turn to ask questions as his face was hidden behind a Brad Pitt mask.
‘Am I beautiful?’ he asked nonchalantly with a RedBull drink in hand, earning a little chuckle from the crowd.
‘Yes’ Yuki answered with a laugh.
‘Very beautiful?’
‘Haha… Yeah’
‘George Russell’ he fired out quickly, getting the crowd to erupt into a proper laughter. ‘Am I right or not?’
Just as George realized what he heard, he could feel himself smiling involuntarily, looking out onto the stage with a chuckle and a spark in his eyes. The game continued and he snapped out of it after a second, remembering cameras were everywhere and had probably caught his silly reaction.
'Damn it, George, stop acting like a schoolboy’
He couldn’t escape the moment throughout the rest of the day. People kept catching him being distracted, not listening or paying attention to whatever was happening around. He let himself actually reflect on it only during the drive from the paddock back to the hotel.
‘It was just a joke, come on. And why would I even care’
But deep inside he could feel himself starting to smile again, warmth running to his cheeks. Because somehow the thought that Max could look at him that way, even if he’d said it as a joke, caused his heartbeat to speed up. Thinking about Max’s gaze trailing the line of his nose, his cheekbones, his jawline, his lips… It made him feel something he couldn’t quite name, something he had never experienced before. Something that lingered in the back of his mind keeping him awake the nights that followed and filling his dreams when he was able to get any sleep.
Even when he tried his best not to think about it.
Even when Carmen was by his side.
Even when he kept telling himself it was just wrong.