pit stop purgatory

George has proven amply he has absolutely no reservations talking about loving Lewis. A lot. And thats not even counting all the stuff about respect and seeing Lewis as a hero to follow-- but adoration is not being in love, even if it's a precursor to it.

That’s something you only really learn when you’re in it for the first time— just how different it feels compared to everything you’ve felt before, and just how unglamorous it is. It’s not giant glowing idealism of this perfect person, it’s not hero worship— it’s seeing someone for all their flaws and differences, and knowing you still want it to be them you solve problems with. It’s not someone perfect for the good times, but someone imperfect who makes the bad times breathable.

I don’t think George is stupid or even that naive honestly, but he’s always been a little idealistic, a little willing to fall in head first and beleive it’s going to be perfect before he’s had proof (see: Mercedes). He would declare himself as loving Lewis even before having seen all of him, and I think he’d find himself SAYING I love you really early into their relationship, timid but certain, possibly even before they’ve gotten together. And I think that would scare the ass off of Lewis honestly.

I don’t want people thinking I see George as pathetic and desperate, he’s got such a strong sense about himself and who he is, such a firm belief of his strength. But I also think he’s just… aching to be normal for once. For things to follow the stories and go right, follow the plan, and in that hope he might force himself into the belief he’s found the one earlier than he really should.

Lewis in the inverse, seems to have almost made some kind of peace with love taking a long time to find him, and he’s had enough relationships that seemed perfect and failed to know it’s not as simple as person + person = happily ever after. He has his own flaws, a deep anxiety about commitment and locking himself into one thing; a resistance to settling or prioritising another person over racing and himself. George saying I love you too fast probably would freak him out, because George is likely going to say it way earlier than Lewis expects; and before Lewis himself is close to that stage. He also cares about George, and seeing how high George places him and the danger of the influence within that is so hard to face and even more worrying, Lewis doesn’t want to be someone who can manipulate George. He’s been accused of being that guy for so long he probably has a real, deep and curdling concern it might be true.

I’m honestly not sure how they work through that, probably some snapping and uncareful words followed by slow discussions and confessions. It will sting, for g order to be told he might think he loves Lewis but he doesn’t yet, it always feels deeply alien to be told your emotions are not what you think they are, but I also think he’s persistent and bullheaded enough to not let it drive him away. If Lewis thinks he doesn’t love him, then he’s going to stick around and find out what it really feels like.

That, is what cups and fans the spark for Lewis to start thinking maybe George might be someone he could love that way. The way he takes critique on the chin and uses it to steel himself to move forward with even more certainty, his resolve at information most people would turn and run from. George would sink into that quiet analytical head of his and start turning it into some kind of internal project- what does being in love romantically mean, how will I know when I feel it, he knows he can’t force it, but how can he rationalise it.

I think Lewis is drawn to resilience, people who take hard times and stay bold and loving, the way George can win or lose to him and treat him no differently, ego abandoned when it comes to seeing Lewis as his friend the second helmets are off. The way on the track George fights him without reverence and kid gloves, BUT with trust of the utmost degree that lets them push each other to the limit and gets his blood singing that adrenaline song that got him into the sport in the first place. He likes that George will both sing his praises (all racing drivers have a flatter-able ego), and push him behind closed doors, how George is aware of the difference between how telling him something privately and how saying it in front of a camera will play out. He adores that George has lost the reverence that kept him nervous and now will tease him back just as fiercely as Lewis had goaded him to, snarky little smile tugging at his chest as George waits for his response, and he aches when George listens earnestly to anything Lewis talks about, tricks on track or stories about past seasons or things he’s trying to push in fashion or even just how his music is going.

Lewis probably says I love you, and means it, first, after George has pushed him on something. Maybe an argument about regulations on Toto’s stupid private jet, or sweaty and a little raw from contact on track they both know they could have avoided staring each other down like boxers looking to see who will throw the first punch. Something that has Lewis’ ego fighting with his rational brain, knowing he could have done better but too haunted by past teammates to give an inch to George incase George uses it against him. He probably says it without really thinking about it, after George has been needling him, nose scrunched and eyes light like he knows he can push Lewis and not get bit, because he has finally learned the right way to see Lewis as a person, not a competitor or an idol. “I love you George but fuck off man, leave it alone” slipping out as Lewis tries to wiggle out of the conversation before they both pause on what he’s said. George, smart little animal that he is, doesn’t respond, and continues to tease, and Lewis feels a little lighter knowing nothing has changed.