dabble in the boundary of disaster

2016 - GP3 Series

After Formula 3, Alex and Charles move to... Formula 3. Okay, okay. I'm kidding. They move to GP3, which would be combined three years later with the Formula 3 European Championship to form present day Formula 3. Like many other single-seater series, all competitors use a standardized car in GP3.

Alex and Charles were teammates, which I hope you read in the "they were roommates" vine voice.

They both drive in 2016 for defending GP3 Champions ART Grand Prix, who brought Esteban Ocon to the title just a year prior. Alex was announced first, soon followed by Charles. This was a return for Charles; he had competed with ART from 2012 to 2013 in karting.

By this point, Charles was rumored to be connected to the Ferrari Driver Academy; however, it-- along with a position as a test driver for Haas-- wouldn't be announced until March.

As the season progresses, it's clear that they're not only teammates: they're fighting for the title.

They have a dominant season, including a 1-2 in Austria; here is a cute series of gifs from the cooldown room. This is a good race by race breakdown of photos of them together that season. The first person to take a win from Charles is Alex himself.

It all comes down to Abu Dhabi (again?!), the second-to-last race of the GP3 season. They go into that weekend knowing that one of them will be crowned GP3 Champion there.

But... they're still having fun:

An absolutely obscene amount of crying/laughing emojis. Sus.

Critically, the GP3 social media guy makes them do a silly little photoshoot before:

They each deal with the stress in different ways, from going little mouse mode to straight up chilling:

Before the race, Alex says: "“I THINK CHARLES’ GAP IS A BIT BIG. IN A WAY I DON’T HAVE ANYTHING TO LOSE, THERE IS NO REAL PRESSURE OR ANYTHING FOR ME. IT’S JUST ABOUT DOING MY JOB, DOING THE BEST THAT I CAN AND LET’S JUST HOPE THAT CHARLES HAS A BAD WEEK-END."

Neither of them actually finishes the 2016 Abu Dhabi feature race, even though it still decides the 2016 GP3 Champion. Alex-- who had gotten pole position that weekend-- hits Jack Aiken while fighting for the lead and has to retire. Charles doesn't make it much longer in the race; he gets run off the track by Santino Ferrucci while fighting for third.

Charles was quoted as saying: "It was really strange to be champion and finish in the wall at the same time. When I heard on the radio we were already champions because Alex was out, then I took the risk. [...] But it's an amazing moment. So much dedication into this season - it's amazing to finish on a high, on a low, but winning the championship."

Irrelevant, but he also talked a lot of shit about Ferrucci in that article. He should bring back bitching on camera, and I mean that with no irony:  "To be honest what Ferrucci did was completely stupid, I will have to go see him and talk to him. What he [Ferrucci] did already from the beginning of the race was really crazy, I already had problems [with him] this season and he kept going knowing I'm [competing for] a championship, which is really stupid."

Alex tweets about it:

And Charles responds:

Charles finishes the season with 202 points to Alex's 177.

He ends the season with Haas denying any signing rumors, saying they need experienced drivers instead.

In 2019, Alex would speak back about the days with Charles, saying "I get on really well with Charles, We had our GP3 experience, and to be honest, already back then, it was, 'This guy is seriously, seriously quick'. [...] From what I know of him, he could always do these laps - sort of, 'Where did that come from?'"

2017 - Formula 2

Charles switches to Prema while Alex stays with ART Grand Prix.

At this point, F2 was in their seventh year of running the same chassis; this normally gives an advantage to more experienced drivers. In 2017, it doesn't matter. Charles has a dominant season.

He is the first rookie to win the F2 title since Nico Hulkenberg in 2009, beating his closest rival by 72-points even after a few technical infringement penalties. It's also a complicated year: Charles' father passes before the Azerbaijan Grand Prix.

Alex's season is also tough. He breaks his collarbone in June after a misadventure with George:

“[George] came all the time, we ate together at noon and in the evening he was almost part of the family. We had gone cycling in the forest and the rear brakes didn’t work on my second bike. It didn’t change much for me as I was using my main bike. I would say George is not the best cyclist in the world, I was cycling more than he was, so I told him, ‘George, take the right bike, I’ll take the one without rear brakes’, and I thought it would be okay. We went to a new place, which is always a little bit dangerous, but it looked okay to me. We didn’t realise it at that time, but we were going down a bridleway, and there was a jump for horses: a tree with a big stump and branches that were in the way. Behind the branch there was a huge drop in height. When I saw that, I panicked. I hit the brakes. And obviously, my rear brake didn’t work. I ended up doing this sort of front flip. I landed on my collarbone, broke it.”

Alex misses races. Sergei Sirotkin replaces him and has a crash; in 2022, Alex said that he believes that crash was responsible for how the rest of his season went: "I still believe there was something wrong with the car after the crash. It was never the same. It was one of those things. It was disappointing at the time."

In Abu Dhabi, Alex and Charles have a last lap battle where Charles lowkey makes contact. Alex is mad, but he-- and Latifi-- round out the podium for Charles' last F2 race. For an F2 race, this lap gets a lot of replay.

Charles explains his take on the final lap: "..I knew my tyres were in good shape so I gave it all on the last lap, and at turn 7 everyone was going very wide so I committed on the last lap, Alex closed but it was already too late for me as I had committed, so we touched a little bit and I passed him on the limit at turn 8."

Meanwhile, Alex manages to still talk very nicely about Charles at the press conference even after that drama: "Pace wise obviously we were not as quick as Charles – he has been very quick all year in the races, and today was no exception. [...] Well Charles is fast! I felt comfortable, and I thought he was my teammate initially, so I thought if he can go quick then I can go quick [laughs]: I pushed a bit and I was going quicker than I was doing, but still Charles was catching me! I thought he was going to pass me with 3 laps to go, but with the DRS it halted proceedings, although I knew there was a red car catching me quickly in my mirrors…"

But at the end of the day, it doesn't matter: by Jerez-- where Charles clinches the title-- he claims 8 out of 10 poles. Charles ends up the first back-to-back GP3/'GP2' champion. It's a banner year for him.

Alex finishes 10th after missing multiple races after his broken bone. In 2022, he looked back and said, "From that point onwards, I had a terrible season. It was one of those seasons that never clicked."

The big Chalex drama in 2018, however, mostly comes from where it sets them up for 2019. Charles is announced for Sauber; Alex signs a last minute F2 deal with DAMs that is only on a race-by-race basis.

“Does Peter Pan remind you of anyone?” Jenson asks, tapping the remote against his chin for a second before changing the channel again. The flickering animation morphs into a high speed car chase. Jenson keeps changing it. He turns up the volume a little as the rain outside gets louder, thunder rumbling in the distance. One mississippi, two mississippi….

“What?” Lewis says, voice slightly muffled by the closed door.

“Peter Pan. Does he remind you of anyone?”

Someone on the tv guesses the right answer and the crowd loses their shit, lights going off, alarms blaring.

“Oh my god,” Jenson says and he laughs. “Oh my god. It’s Seb. Holy shit.”

The bathroom door opens, steam spilling out, and Lewis’s voice is clearer now when he says, “What’s Seb?”

“Peter Pan,” Jenson says without looking at him.

Lewis pauses, lifting his arm to rub a towel through his hair. Jenson gives in, turning his head on his arms to watch the bend and curve of his muscles. His hair sticks out a little all over the place when he’s finished.

One of Lewis’s curls is longer than the others and it curls along the shape of his ear. It’s more distracting than Jenson would like to admit. Luckily the only person who would hate Jenson talking about his feelings, especially ones involving Lewis and this thing that they do, more than Jenson is Lewis himself so his slack jawed staring is ignored, like it always is.

“It fits,” Lewis says, chewing at the inside of his mouth. Jenson’s skin feels too tight for his bones when he realises he knows how the little blisters Lewis leaves along the inside of his cheeks feel on his tongue.

“Does that make Mark Captain Hook?”

Jenson stares at him for a moment before it clicks and he cackles. If they weren’t in a hotel room on their own, if Jenson wasn’t shirtless lying on his bed, Lewis naked save for a towel after being fully naked in his shower, he’d grin at Lewis and say I love you and Lewis would roll his eyes, smiling.

But they are, so Jenson settles for asking, inbetween breathless laughter, “Who’s the crocodile?”

Lewis won’t fuck him if Jenson has a girlfriend and he definitely won’t fuck him if Lewis himself has a girlfriend. But he also won’t fuck him just because neither of them don’t. Lewis only lets things happen between them when one of them has won, champagne so sticky their come barely makes a difference and victory drunk.

The only time they’ve had sex when they’ve both lost was when Jenson spent the entire night at Kimi’s party flirting with the bartender, grinning at Lewis. Lewis had hated how much Jenson trailing fingers along her arm, chewing on a toothpick, all the while making eyes at Lewis as he whispered in her ear, turned him on. Jenson could see it in the set of his jaw, the way his fingers lay flat against the side of his glass, knuckles white. It hadn’t stopped him from dropping to his knees in the club bathroom, Jenson pressed up against the door because the lock didn’t work.

All your rules, Jenson thinks, and the thought is as fondly soft as it is sad. Aren’t they heavy?

Lewis’s eyes are bright and glinting as he says, “It’s obviously Fernando.”

That sets Jenson off again and when he’s finally stopped laughing, Lewis is across the room, trying to find a pair of sweatpants from Jenson’s suitcase that he won’t have to roll up four or five times at the ankles.

His towel hangs low on his hips, v line more pronounced now in the tv blue tinged dark. There’s a drop of water making it’s way down the curve of his back. Jenson wants to shape his mouth inbetween the dips and bumps of his spine.

“Come here,” Jenson’s says, and his voice is low in the back of his throat without even trying.

Lewis turns, collarbones startlingly delicate and thin amoungst the rest of his solid body. He raises his eyebrows at Jenson, mouth lifting slightly at one of the corners. “Really?” he says. “Again?”

Jenson shrugs and lets his eyes wander. “I’m bored.”

“Oh,” Lewis laughs, walking closer, backlit by the tv. “How enthusiastic. Careful, I’m feeling very overwhelmed over here with all this want.”

Jenson doesn’t say anything because there’s nothing he wants to say, sometimes I feel so full of something for you everything else gets stuck in the back of my throat, or you laughed at a joke Seb told last week and you were so beautiful I walked right into the back of Kimi and made him spill his coffee and I don’t think you even noticed, or I love you, but more importantly, I think I might want you, and that scares me shitless, that Lewis will let himself hear.

Lewis watches him as Jenson wraps a hand around his knee, thumb fitting into the crease of the soft thin skin there. He trails his hand up, smooth hairless skin still damp with shower water and moisturiser. He taps his fingers to the beat of the rain outside. Jenson slips the hand up under his towel, the skin on the inside of Lewis’s thigh almost silky.

Lewis doesn’t move, just stands there, watching him with those unreadable eyes. He doesn’t even so much as shiver. If Jenson didn’t know any better he’d think having Jenson’s hand centimetres from Lewis’s dick meant nothing to him. He does know better. And the tent Lewis’s dick is making under his towel helps too. Still, Jenson swallows back the urge to yell at him because he’s sure that would only make Lewis leave.

“Can I suck you off?” Jenson asks, because that’s another rule. Lewis likes spontaneity and surprises and switching it up but only after Jenson asks first.

“You gave me one last time,” Lewis says, eyes dark and focused, a little crease between his eyebrows that’s the same one he gets when he’s studying telemetry data.

Jenson hates him just a little.

“I’ve told you before, this isn’t a business arrangement, mate. There’s no I did this so you have to do that here. There’s no keeping score.”

No one wins or loses. Or at least they shouldn’t, not if you’re doing it right.

Even when you’re good, you and Nico are something I can never fully understand.

Lewis rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know that,” he says, voice dripping with condescension and slight frustration. Do you, Jenson thinks, do you really, and he knows the answer without asking it.

“Sex is supposed to be fun, Lewis,” he says instead because that’s light and teasing and allowed. “You need to relax, you know. Has anyone ever told you that before?”

Lewis gives him a flat look. “Yeah. You. This morning.”

Jenson grins, ruffling his hair out of his face and if he arm flexes as he does so then, well, reflected mannerisms and all that. He doesn’t miss the way Lewis’s eyes track the movement.

“Oh, right, yeah. One of my smarter moments.”

“Few as they are,” Lewis says, shoulders relaxed, smile pushing out from behind his eyes. His hands are still loose by his side, Lewis was never one for showing aggression, never one for showing anything at all if he could help it, but his fingers are looser at the knuckles than they were a few minutes ago.

You gave me one last time.

Jesus.

“Well, if I showed you my genius all the time you’d appreciate me less. Got to keep you guessing.”

Lewis hums, closer now. Jenson could reach out and cause his towel to fall with one tug if he wanted to.

“I appreciate you,” Lewis says, fingers tracing the shape of Jenson’s mouth. It’s still raining outside, slamming against the window, and Jenson latches onto that faint boom spit sound of water so he doesn’t do anything stupid, or stupider, if he’s being honest, than what he’s already doing.

Jenson’s knows that’s as close to an I love you that he will ever easily get from Lewis, at least for a very long time. He could, he knows, somewhere deep down and shameful, ask it of Lewis and Lewis will tell him what he wants to hear, he’s fairly sure, and it’d even be true.

But Jenson has come too far, and been too careful, to take more from Lewis now than Lewis is willing to give. He has some rules of his own.

For someone so brave, he thinks as he leans in to kiss him, heat pooling into his stomach as he realises that Lewis smells of his shampoo, you are so full of fear. Before you, I was never scared. But, now —

But, now.

And I’m still not brave.

—

“Hey,” Jenson says, knocking his ankle against Lewis’s, who turns his head on his arms until he’s facing him, one eye squished, the other blinking at him. Jenson wants him to sit up properly so he can see the red marks his arm would press into his cheeks.

The sweat is cooling on Jenson’s chest, leaving him feeling weird and gross. There’s come drying on Lewis’s ribs, where Jenson was spreading it around, laughing at Lewis’s face, body post orgasm shivery and hot at the sight of his come coating Lewis’s skin and Lewis letting him. Lewis is watching him again, eyes a little dazed but clear. It’s not the first time Jenson wants to ask what he’s thinking but doesn’t. He presses his fingers against his teeth so he doesn’t kiss him. It’s not the first time he has done that either.

“What are you doing after the briefing tomorrow?”

Lewis shrugs, the movement graceful and rolling even though he’s lying on his stomach. Sometimes, Jenson thinks, you make it really easy to hate you. And even during those times, it’s still easier to love you. Jenson wants to ask him how he does it.

“I don’t know yet. Why?”

Jenson grins, feeling the stretch of it across his face. “Want to fuck on Ron’s desk after, when he’s gone?”