Chapter Text
ALEX
Something isn’t right. And it hasn’t been right for a long time. Well – just about a month actually.
It started with sudden cold surges that left Alex shaking even though he was wearing three sweaters and huddled into a blanket. Then the hunger came: Hunger for protein, red meat preferably, and sweet things like chocolate. His skin has also started to itch, especially on his neck, wrists and – embarrassingly – his crotch.
George had urged him to see a doctor when Alex told him about the symptoms but dropped his nagging once Alex went to see a doctor that attested that nothing was wrong.
And yes, Alex did technically see a doctor, he didn’t lie about that… Just that the doctor was his general physician and Alex only asked to do an STD check, which did come back clear. To reward himself for being so brave, Alex fucked George on three different surfaces of his apartment and stuffed so much cum into him, that it was still trickling out the next day.
Patrick wasn’t worried and that made Alex feel even more sure in his decision, even as the symptoms got worse. Did Patrick enable his hypochondria? Yes, he absolutely did. Was that a problem? Not to Alex at least…
It’s just- after his appendectomy and being in a coma- he just doesn’t want to see a doctor if it’s not life-threatening.
But now – as Alex is huddling into his Williams branded jacket, ready for their first media session of the season – Patrick does look worried. Australia is cold in autumn but not that cold. Still, Alex can’t help it. He’s cold and miserable and he just wants to get this over with so he can go back to his hotel room.
“Mate, what is wrong with you?” Carlos asks from his side, the smaller omega watching him up and down once curiously. “You were staring into space… You haven’t got a cold, have you?” And he steps a bit away from Alex with a slim smile on his lips.
“No, I’m totally fine,” Alex brushes him off and it comes out more rude than he wanted it to. He runs a hand over his face and sighs, “Sorry… I just have a rough time settling back into the season.”
“Ah,” Carlos acknowledges, face easing. “Will get better soon, no? The car is not so bad.”
Alex makes a non-committal grunting noise. He’s had this conversation before: with Franco, with Logan, with Nyck, with Nicholas… The car is always bad, some years more than others.
Not that Alex wants to discount Carlos’ work at the team but a Williams stays a Williams, if the F1 pack omega is driving it or not. There’ll be no miracle wins but instead DNFs and reliability issues en masse.
Alex has started to stare off again, prompting Carlos to lean in and says with big-eyed sincerity, “If you need someone to talk to-”
“-I’m not one of your omegas, don’t coddle me!” The words are out before Alex can stop them. Carlos rears back a bit, clearly taken aback by Alex’ outburst and Alex immediately wishes he could take it back. He doesn’t even understand why Carlos riles him up so much. They are cool with each other, on their way to becoming friends even but right now- God, he infuriates Alex. “Sorry,” He stutters, shivering through another bout of coldness. “I’m- I shouldn’t have said that; I’m sorry.”
“That’s right, you shouldn’t have said that,” Carlos says primly, turning a cold shoulder towards him, instead going over to talk with Nico and Gabriel.
Alex signs deeply. Another day, another fuck up… It’s not like he’s doing it on purpose, being so irritable, but he also can’t help it lately. He knows though, that this was a step too far: As a beta he shouldn’t have mentioned Carlos’ role as the pack omega and he definitely shouldn’t have belittled it.
He turns away himself, looking onto the fan stage where the Mercedes and Red Bull drivers are wrapping up their segment.
Liam and Kimi are smiling at a joke the interviewer makes, serene and happy – excited for their shot at glory. As omegas they are Carlos’ responsibility, at least that Alex was right with. They’ll get taken care off, supported and mentored by the oldest omega on the grid.
Lewis heads the alphas of the grid, guiding and helping them for many years now. ‘Max is an alpha too’, Alex’ brain supplies suddenly, as Max makes a comment and puts a hand on George’s shoulder.
George looks relaxed but something about it makes Alex’ skin crawl. Max shouldn’t be touching George – actually, no one should. No one should be touching George, especially no alpha and-
Alex is half way up the steps to the stage when their press officer grabs his wrist gently and reminds him politely, “It’s not our time yet.” Behind her, Carlos looks incredulously at hm.
“Right,” Alex huffs, embarrassed, and steps back down. He only has half a mind to cringe at himself, the other is still fixed on George.
He doesn’t have to wait long, just a few more minutes and the four drivers are stepping down and towards the Williams and Stake drivers. George immediately joins Alex and that pleases something deep inside of him.
“Bloody loud out there. A girl in the front row was screaming her lungs out,” He quips, running a hand through his mouse brown hair that falls right back into its perfect swoop.
For a moment Alex wants to grab George, shove him into a car and book it back to his hotel. They’d be much saver in his room, without the alphas nearby. Max and Nico are standing two meters away, talking with the omegas but it’s still too close. Way too close.
“Is everything okay?” George asks softly, looking with concern where Alex has been staring at the group. Kimi and Max are scenting each other, wrists rubbing together tenderly. “They are doing it again,” He whispers, rolling his eyes big blue eyes. “’Pack finds pack’,” George venomously repeats the words engrained into all of them from birth.
Pack – a second family. A home away from home.
Which betas are not a part off.
Packs are for omegas and alphas exclusively, so the grid pack does not include them – Alex and George, nor Fernando, Jack or Yuki. No, they are on the outside like they have been since the sport was established.
They are lucky really: This year is the season with the most betas since 1994… It’s been big in the headlines, something so F1 can pat itself on the shoulders and say, ‘Discrimination against betas? Not here, we are a progressive sport.’
“Weirdos,” Alex singsongs under his breath and enjoys the way it makes George laugh.
But it dies down when George registers how Alex’ huddles into his jacket and asks, “You’re still cold? Alex, you promised me this wasn’t an issue anymore,” He whispers, worry clear in his tone.
They aren’t- anything, really, George and him… They’ve been sleeping with each other on and off for a few years – ever since George admitted that he always wanted to try it with a man but never found anyone he trusted.
He trusted Alex though.
Since then they’ve only gotten closer and closer but never took the step into calling each other boyfriends… Theoretically they both could sleep with other people but Alex isn’t and he’s relatively certain that George isn’t either.
“You don’t have to worry, Georgie,” Alex soothes him. “The doctor said it’s fine. Maybe it’s just because I’m getting close to being thirty, the age is getting to me.” And he mimes an old person holding their hip.
But George isn’t dissuaded and asks, “Promise me you’ll see a doctor after this grand prix, yeah? I’m sure Australia has plenty of capable doctors that can work with your- aversion…” His eyes are so large and trusting that Alex can’t do anything but nod, hypochondria be damned. A checky grin spreads over George’s face and he leans in to whisper into Alex ear, “You’d have a hard time fucking me if you were dead, so…” And then he gets whisked away and Alex has to step onto the stage, hard in his jeans.
Alex isn’t above bragging: He has great stamina, he’s an athlete after all. He can cum two times easily, three sometimes, and he can have sex for hours.
But this – having a constant boner for over half a day – is new to him.
His thoughts are circling around sex all the time, even when he’s in an important meeting for their qualifying strategy in two days. But instead of thinking about tires, weather and pace, he thinks about George, a few garages over in his own meetings. Bored probably. Lonely – Alex would keep him great company-
But he refrains. He does his job, avoids Carlos, eats two steaks for lunch and then does some silly Tiktok challenge the social media inters swear will be so popular. And then he goes back to his hotel – alone.
He jerks of three times in the course of the night but afterwards his boner goes down and he shrugs it off as a pre-season adrenaline rush.
Alex gets through the Australian grand prix, cold and horny and miserable. He manages a surprisingly good result – p5 – and George makes it onto the podium.
All in all, Alex could be happy and content.
Still, when he can finally get to his car to go back to his hotel, he's just sitting in it.
The heat is blasting and still he’s cold. The air is stuffy and thick with a foreign, intense smell Alex can’t place.
The minutes pass and Alex feels like- like he can’t leave. Something is keeping him here at the track, like he’s forgotten something important but he has his keys, wallet, phone… He checks his backpack three times but everything is there.
Still, something is keeping him here.
In a daze, Alex gets back out of his car and walks towards the paddock.
GEORGE
George stands on the podium and just feels content.
Sure, a p3 isn’t a win but it’s a great start to the season – a season that might be his championship season.
He’s not being delusional, he thinks, to expect a championship for all his years of hard work… Of course he won’t tell that to the media, instead he says he thinks the McLarens will win. Can’t be too confident too soon or he’ll look like an idiot. But the car is quick and it’s working well for both Kimi and him.
He worries about one thing though: Alex. He’s been weird all weekend, distracted and short, huddling into corners and away from any other driver but George.
Sure, the pack usually sticks together and keeps the betas on the outside, but they are friends with Lando and Max, both alphas always open to talk and debrief after sessions. Alex avoids them anyway and that does make George wonder if he’s missed something.
“So, what’s the issue, George,” Toto finally prompts him after the wrap up meeting for the grand prix finishes. The older alpha sits down next to him, smile fatherly but concerned. “You should be running out now to the next bar to celebrate, but instead you’re moping around.”
It's not exactly true, George isn’t moping… But he is reviewing his last few laps, checking and rechecking what he could have done better.
Kimi’s race was very good, excellent for a rookie. Of course George congratulated him but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t concerned about that too. After having an alpha teammate for so long, having an omega – a young omega hailed as the next big thing – as his teammate… The pressure feels startlingly almost the same. No relief. No respite.
Lewis holds all the possible success of F1, historically speaking, and Kimi combines all of the raw potential of the future. And George is just- the beta that’s been driving for a few years, not bad or good, just- mid. Average. Maybe a once off championship winner but not more. He can’t stand the thought.
“Alex has been acting a bit off lately…” George slowly admits, twirling his pen around. Toto doesn’t know about their- thing and there’s really no reason for him to know. “He’s cold all the time, eats more, is a bit- snappy. I’m just- a little worried, I guess. There are a few serious illnesses that have these symptoms but since that appendicitis, Alex doesn’t like seeing doctors if he’s not forced.”
Toto nods sympathetically, “It’s good that you care for Alex but I’m sure he’ll be fine. You betas always are.” And he gives George’s shoulder a firm slap and shake. “Maybe you can get him to see a doctor during the summer break?”
Toto is right of course. Betas don’t get heats or ruts; they don’t get mate sick or imprint. He’s right. Alex will be fine. Both of them are just betas, what bad could really happen to them? Alex is not old enough for most types of cancer, all drivers get health screened once a year and even Alex suffers through those tests willingly and regularly.
“You’re right,” George smiles thinly, closing his laptop. “I might just head out then, the data won’t change until tomorrow.”
Toto nods encouragingly, “That is a good idea. The team and I are really happy with your result today, you can be proud of yourself.” And George imagines that Toto means ‘you’re our top driver now, this is your team’.
The paddock is still alive with teams packing up their equipment and George gets caught up a few times talking to various people. The sun is setting behind grey clouds but at least it’s not raining anymore.
He walks leisurely past the Red Bull, Ferrari and Mclaren garages. A strange collection of people catches his eye: Lewis, Max and Oscar, standing by the Red Bull hospitality, evidently involved in a deep conversation.
George slows his steps but doesn’t pause. Maybe he can ask Lando some time this is about but he doesn’t want to intrude now… All of them are nice, but they’re also alphas and George would never cross the boundary to involve himself in their business.
He was raised right after all. He’s a good beta. He minds his business.
So he moves on and is half way to the turnstiles into the paddock when his eyes catch on another unexpected figure that’s quickly approaching him: Alex, eyes focussed intently on George.
He texted George over half an hour ago that he’s going back to his hotel and if George wants to come over for dinner. George had expected him to be there already but maybe he forgot something. He could have just texted George to bring it though-
A smaller person rushes past George, followed by a whole group of people.
Belatedly George realises that it’s Carlos, Patrick and a few Williams employees. They stop Alex, maybe ten meters away from George. Both Patrick and Carlos talking intensely but quietly at him. George can’t hear what they’re saying but all of them look tense, like something or other is wrong.
The pr officer George remembers from his days at Williams looks around nervously and then hisses something at them. That only seems to agitate Alex even more, who shrugs Patricks hand off of his arm.
Now George is really getting worried. Maybe there is something with Alex’ race, a disqualification? Williams can be messy; he wouldn’t put it past them… But instead of all of them going past George and towards the Williams garage, Patrick, Carlos and the Williams crew members surround Alex and pull him back towards the car park.
George can only watch, baffled and confused.
Someone unexpectedly joins him, a warm hand on his arm.
“You dropped your phone,” Lewis’ gentle voice says and George gets distracted, looking down where Lewis extends it to him after having picked it up from the ground. When George looks back to where the commotion around Alex was just a moment ago, they are all gone. And so is Alex. Like he was never even there.
“Thank you,” George stutters, taking his phone back and feeling over where the screen protector cracked.
“What was up with them?” Max asks curiously as he steps up to them, his eyes fixed too on where Alex was just a moment ago.
“No clue,” George shakes his head, pocketing his phone. He wants to play it cool, act nonchalant but he’s never been good at it.
Both Max and Lewis have this thick, heavy scent around them. As a beta, George can’t really smell the notes in their scents but he can pick up on the amount of it and its texture. This feels viscous, like concern, worry or anger maybe…
Max makes a contemplative face, “Someone has been smelling weird all weekend – foreign,” And he sniffs the air, nose scrunching up. “Maybe that was Alex.”
George can’t help but break out into a nervous laugh, “Maybe it’s a new Williams mechanics,” He offers, hands still shaking badly so he hides them in his pockets.
This is all laughable – he’s just on edge because of Alex’ strange illness… Alex wouldn’t smell off anything other than normal, human beta scents. It wouldn’t be hidden from George. Nothing about Alex is ever a secret to him.
He can feel Lewis’ heavy gaze on him as he repeats George’s words, “Maybe…”
George can’t sleep that night. He lies in his dark hotel room, staring at the ceiling. The mattress is too soft and even though he brought his own pillow, his head feels like it’s sinking down into the foam.
Neither his texts nor his calls to Alex or Patrick have been answered. He’s almost gone so mad as to call James, but he could stop himself. There’s no reason to act like this. Alex is a beta – he’ll be fine. He’s not currently dying in a hospital nearby. Totally not.
George picks his phone up, the clock telling him that it’s 1:23. He has six more hours to sleep until his flight to China leaves. He should really sleep… Instead, he unlocks his phone and opens Instagram.
He has a folder with motivating and calming mantras that always help him when his head feels like it’s sitting wrong on his shoulders.
Instead, a blue tile with white text burns into his eyes.
The Williams logo is at the top of the picture and a photo of Alex from earlier today – in his fire proves, hair mussed and face concentrated – at the side. The text reads:
The Atlassian Williams Racing team is happy to announce that long-time driver Alex Albon has presented as an alpha earlier this evening. The team and his family are supporting him in this joyous yet surprising moment. We ask everyone to respect Alex’ privacy and wish him well.
More information to follow…
Alex is 28 and will turn 29 in just a week.
He can’t- He wouldn’t- Presentation happens around 18. Okay, 16 for some, 20 for others. There are rare cases where it’s earlier or later but this- it’s unprecedented. Alex is too old. Alex is too calm. Alex is- like George. They are the same. Always have been.
George lets himself fall back onto his bed, exhaling a long, shaky breath. His feet and hands feel numb and tingly at the same time, like they are falling asleep without his brain’s command.
The blue light from his phone shines onto the ceiling and in it, George imagines he can still see that post. Alex’ face burned into his.
His heart is beating high and too fast in his throat and he can’t breathe.
Alex is an alpha now, Williams wouldn’t have announce it if it’s not true.
Alex- his Alex, an alpha.
Notes:
Up next: 'The space you left behind'
Chapter 2: The space you left behind
Notes:
So... I'm back:)
Hello to all new and old faces!<3
It took me ages to finally write this fic after I'd plotted it at the start of the year but here we are now. About half is written, on the other I'm currently working. The pacing has definetly been a bit of a challange for me so if parts feel a little dragging or slow, I'm already appologizing in advance.
Chapter lengths will also vary WILDLY so get ready I guess.Updates will be every Saturday or Sunday like always.
Thank you so much for reading, kudos and commenting! Enjoy<3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
GEORGE
George has learned by now, that the world can be cruel.
He’s too old to be disillusioned with all of it. He’s been up and down, hated and loved, praised and shamed. Life has thrown him around its turns and he’s learned to deal with it.
Still, he expected something different from this phase of his life where finally everything started to align. His career was at an all-time high, his family healthy, he clicked with all of his friends and his- situationship with Alex was developing towards exactly what George wanted.
But the past few days shattered everything he thought he knew.
The media went crazy with Alex’ presentation. It’s on every motorsport website, on Instagram, TikTok, X – even Facebook. There’s no escaping it. Everywhere is just ‘Alex, Alex, Alex’ and “Alpha, alpha, alpha,” George has to repeat the word to himself to get used to it. He never does.
While the outside storms with the news, George’s immediate circle is quiet.
No one but his mum calls him to ask how he’s doing with the news and George isn’t sure how he can explain to her, that it feels like he lost a limb. An integral part of him – gone.
No one knows about the thing they had going on and so the only expectation seems to be that George should be happy for his friend… He is, he tells his mum, but really, he’s not. He hates it and he hates himself.
The driver’s group chat is quiet but George has this lingering feeling that there is another one – the grid pack group chat – that’s surely not. Alex will be a part of that soon, maybe already is.
And that wouldn’t hurt so much to think about, if he weren’t ignoring George.
Sure, it was a little over the top that George called him five times on Monday and then a few times in the passing days but- how could he not? And how could Alex ignore him now? Sure, he was probably having his presenting rut and that couldn’t be pleasant but shooting a short ‘I’ll get back to you’ text wouldn’t be too high of an expectation, George thinks…
But that text never comes and none of his messages get answered. Patrick only texts him back once with ‘Carlos is taking care of Alex, he’ll be fine’ and that’s all he gets. It doesn’t help of course, to imagine Carlos of all people there… Tanned and beautiful with the best hair on the grid. Alex’ teammate, the omega helping him through his rut – to whatever extend that is.
When George doesn’t get an answer by Thursday, he has to face the music. The paddock in China fills with people – team personal, drivers, media, fans – but Alex won’t be there.
“He’s still not fully there after his rut,” Lando whispers to George while they are waiting for Esteban to appear for their press conference. “I remember my first rut-” Lando does an overexaggerated shiver, “-wasn’t pretty.”
“But he’s okay?” George asks, unable to keep the worry from his tone. It feels degrading, to have to pull these answers out of Lando’s nose but if no one else will tell him, George isn’t above begging.
“Of course, mate,” Lando smiles, rolling his eyes. “It’s just a rut, you know how it goes…”
No, George doesn’t know how it goes.
The last time he was told semi-reliable information about ruts was when he was 14 and in high-school during second-gender education. It all sounded pretty disgusting – the knot, the cum, the desperation – but back then they were all queasy teenagers.
This image he has of ruts, he can’t imagine that happening to Alex. It just doesn’t fit. Not cleaned up, careful, precise Alex, who can take George apart ten different ways and then put him back together in just one hour. Who listened to his fears. And then made them disappear.
He could google stuff of course but any time he types anything into the search bar, it feels like he’s intruding on something… Like that one time where he almost went into the women’s loo at a party, piss drunk. No one saw him and still, he felt mortified at his own indiscretion.
“The pack is pretty excited actually,” Lando supplies, unbidden. “With all the rookies, one additional older pack member doesn’t hurt. And most of us are already friends with him anyway.”
‘Not like me’, George’s brain supplies greedily. ‘None of you know him like I do.’
The thought helps very little with the deep feeling of being left out.
There were five betas on the grid – now it’s only four and while their number is dwindling, the pack only gets stronger. Stronger to protect and involve Alex. To lift up what doesn’t need even more support than they are already getting. Alphas, hyped for their strength and intuition. Omegas, revered for their agility and sensitivity. Any sponsor and team would rather have one of them than a measly, normal beta…
George can’t help but feel resentful at Alex but the thought quickly flips into embarrassment as Esteban joins them and the press conference starts.
Alex and him still can be friends. Alphas and betas are friends all the time, George thinks. He’s- friends with Lando. It’ll be fine. Alex will be fine; presentation doesn’t change who a person is to their core.
They can be friends.
And Alex will find a nice omega to mate and George- he’ll find someone too. Soon he’ll forget about what they had and anyway, it can’t be anymore – what’s the sense in dwelling on it?
Even through all of his emotional turmoil, the grand prix goes well for George. He snags a second p3 and the podium fills up the hollow void in his chest for a moment.
Oscar and Lando are there with him on the podium and their heavy scents remind George again, that Alex will smell like that too now. Heavy, like a blanket but nondescript. A book George can open but not read – written in a language he cannot learn, even if he tried.
When he goes to side hug Lando for the photo, he tries to – dumbly and desperately – smell something but he cannot. It’s just sweat and champagne, not scent or even emotion. Just nothing.
They take their photos together and George tries to ignore any and all of his feeling. The lights are bright and the fans and team members loud. The interviews distract him sufficiently until Lando gets asked the question, “With another alpha on the grid – is the pressure now really amping up?”
And suddenly George is right back there. Lando answers but George doesn’t hear it over the rushing of blood in his ears.
God, why does everyone make such a fuss about this? Alex didn’t magically turn into Michael Schuhmacher overnight. He’s not suddenly a demi-god – he just presented. It happens every day to millions of people around the world. Everyone needs to quit speaking and yapping about it…
Alex and him will still be friends. That his texts and calls don’t go through any more doesn’t have to mean anything. Maybe Alex just lost his phone. It’s not a big deal. He’s not been blocked, not by Alex – what a ridiculous idea… They’ve known each other since they were boys and didn’t know what being alpha or omega really meant.
They’ll be friends.
That mantra gets him through media and the team briefings – through watching Kimi smile as George is being congratulated but with an edge of want. Because Toto only praises George, not him, “Again, very good job, George. I couldn’t be happier with two podiums in a row.” And Kimi looks ready to bite the table in disappointment and frustration.
Afterwards, George wants to go to Kimi and tell him that he’s doing a good job too – p6 is nothing to be ashamed of – but he rushes away so quickly that George doesn’t stand a chance. He hears how Kimi says goodbye to Bono with the added information of, “-going to the pack room.”
All of George’s empathy withers away.
Of course, Kimi doesn’t need his support, he has the pack. He doesn’t need George of all people to tell him his opinion – it doesn’t matter. Inconsequential. Benigne.
George feels horrifically reminded of the week before when he makes his way through the paddock to the parking lot, only that he feels much more exhausted now.
His feet drag but deep down, he wishes he could run out of the paddock and away from the constant whispered conversations. No, even better, he really wants to go into Alex’ driver’s room and hang out with him. Like all those grand prix before, just the two of them talking and sneaking a cheeky make out session.
Instead, he has to listen to the loud voices around him.
“Alex is so lucky.”
“I wonder if he’ll look different when he comes back.”
“He must be even taller now.”
“His racing will improve so much.”
“Williams will have to pay him more now to keep him.”
“Better an alpha late than always a beta.”
George looks at his phone and tries to call Alex again. The call doesn’t go through.
ALEX
“You have to drink something, come on,” Carlos coaxes gently. His free hand cards through the hair on Alex’ nape that’s gone sticky and disgusting with sweat. He’s sitting so close that their hips are squished together and Alex gets the urge to shuffle away. He has trouble though, moving from where he’s keeled over, sitting on the side of his hotel room bed. His whole body feels taunt and constricted at the same time.
He can’t travel like this, they said, he has to weather his maturing rut here in Australia.
Rut. A strange word, simple, short and small for what feels like death to Alex.
His hypothermia is now interspersed with bouts of extreme heat and he’s been putting clothes on just to pull them back off for over an hour now. His skin feels tingly all over and despite his shame and discomfort, he’s hard. Rock hard. He’s never been hard like this and never felt the urge- the need to have sex like this. Like he might die if he doesn’t put his dick into someone.
Carlos has been speaking to him for the past few hours but he doesn’t remember much, all just sunk into the fog inside of his brain. The fog – where it now feels like there’s someone else inside of his head.
Alex rakes his hands through his hair, grips his own skull and presses his fingers into it. But the feeling stays. And it’s getting louder and louder, almost like a voice that is telling him to do things.
Right now, it wants him to take the bottle of water the pretty smelling omega sitting next to him offers. Omega. Someone he could breed maybe. Someone that could alleviate the torturing pressure at the base of his dick.
The thought is not unpleasant but also not completely right, like there’s someone else he’d rather have here. Still, Alex takes the water from Carlos and downs it in three big gulps. Some of it spills down his chest but it doesn’t matter anymore, he’s already wet with sweat.
Alex now knows what the smell in his car was.
That was his own, newly immerging alpha scent – the suffocating heaviness of orchids and blood, of earth and metal. The craving for protein and sugar was in preparation for his maturing rut that his body knew would cost him a lot of energy. And the itching, that was his scent glands developing and his knot coming in.
Because he has one of those now – a weird, bulgy growth that hasn’t softened since yesterday evening when they dragged him out of the paddock and into the hotel.
A low growl escapes Alex and Carlos’ hand on his neck stills.
Carlos smells different now too.
Gone are the days where people just smelled like perfume, deodorant or sweat. Since yesterday, Carlos smells like coffee, vanilla and sugar, but burned around the edges. The scent has almost gone smoky, thick in Alex’ lungs. He wants to cough it out. Wretch the thickness from his throat.
“I know this is shit but there’s no use in fighting it any longer,” Carlos whispers low in his throat and it comes out raspy. “We need to deal with it. Your rut will be over much quicker if you just-” He halts and Alex can hear the catch in his throat. “-Let it happen and let me help you… It’s no use holding out.”
The team doctor came by but he didn’t even need to examine Alex, his scent told them everything he needed to know. Alpha – rut. Wait it out. Let it happen.
Then they left – the doctor, James and Patrick – but Carlos stayed. Alex didn’t ask him to and neither did any of the others, he thinks at least… It confused Alex, still does.
Between the sweat, the smell and the hard on, he desperately wishes he were alone. His alpha though, his alpha does want company and that’s scary in itself because these two things contradict each other, warring inside of Alex’ head. Like he’s not just himself anymore.
“What are you doing here?” He slurs, looking at Carlos incredulously. The thing inside of him recoils, unhappy with the way Alex is treating the omega but he doesn’t care. Carlos is his teammate – this could all be an elaborate trick to manipulate him. A way to get into his head. Carlos is smart like that – strategic.
Alex doesn’t know a lot about being and alpha or an omega. He doesn’t have any in his immediate family and he only ever dated other betas. But he knows about the power omegas can hold, their persuasion and way with words. They have to be like that of course, given their role as dams and nurturers of the pack. An omega is to be listened to; it’s a simple tool of nature.
But right now, Alex doesn’t feel like listening.
He gets off the bed, hot and angry and agitated – horny as well but it’s restless. His new instincts tell him to get out of the hotel room and search for- someone. Someone other than Carlos, who is still sitting on the bed, eyes wide in frustration.
“I told you, Alex,” He says slowly, as if Alex wouldn’t understand otherwise. “I, as the pack omega, am meant to take care of you. It is my responsibility. Your maturing rut can be over in less than three days if you just sleep with me.”
Alex makes a noncommittal noise, nods maybe, then asks, “Just- sleep with you?” His mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton and his canines throb uncomfortably.
“Yes, just sex,” Carlos nods. “We have enough food, water, supplies…”
“What time is it?” Alex asks, for a reason he doesn’t understand.
“8:30 in the morning, you’ve barely slept. It’ll get better if you knot a few times, then you’ll be able to sleep and eat and think rationally again, at least for a moment,” Carlos urges him, hands balled up in his own lap.
‘George will be on a plane by now,’ Alex thinks, nonsensically.
“But you can’t leave,” Carlos says, suddenly sharp and Alex realizes that he’s standing in front of the door, hand on the handle. Carlos is touching his should, grip strong. Alex hadn’t even realized that he got off the bed…
Carlos’ scent has gone less burnt, sweeter now, more bearable in its intensity. It’s almost tasty like this – enticing. Carlos’ hand slowly moves from his shoulder to his nape again, caressing the skin there and for the first time, Alex leans back into it.
“That’s a good alpha,” Carlos purrs and as if his body knows to respond, Alex feels his own chest rumble in content.
It feels good to give in, finally. To let that other thing inside of him take over and not have to fight it any longer. He almost feels like he’s falling asleep after having a headache all day. Sweet relief.
“Good?” Alex asks and let’s go of the handle. Maybe he should really stay here. Maybe if it’ll be over sooner and then he can-
Carlos answers huskily, “So good.” And caresses the gland on the side of his neck. The touch curses through Alex like a lightning bolt, first tensing and then relaxing all of his muscles.
Alex finally does what he stopped himself from for over ten hours.
He lets himself fall into the feeling – the primal urge inside of him.
A fuzzy feeling overtakes him, mind going blank as he goes where Carlos leads him. He’s coaxing and praising, ‘Good alpha’ and ‘I know it’s tough but you’re doing so well, Alex’. It’s nice to hear those words, it soothes the deep wrongness Alex has felt in his chest ever since they told him what was happening to him. Like this it almost natural.
Carlos pushes him onto the bed where he constructed a nice nest for them that Alex hadn’t appreciated until now. It’s soft and warm and so is Carlos, perched above him. He nuzzles his neck, scenting Alex in one of the most intimate places possible and he groans at that.
His hands find Carlos’s waist and grab him tight, holding onto the only person he knows can help him now.
“Carlos, please,” Alex begs before he can stop himself. He doesn’t even really know what he is begging for… For this terrible want to go away, for his dick to be normal again, for anything that could turn back time and make him a beta again. “Please, I need to fuck you.”
Carlos soothes him in response, hands caressing him out of his sweatshirt, “It’s alright. I’ll take care of you… You can let go.”
Involuntarily, Alex’ hips hike up and his hard cock rubs against Carlos’ firm abdomen. It sparks pleasure like he’s never felt it before. Because it’s pure relief. It’s not just lust or the want to put his dick in something – it’s cold water after a long grand prix. It’s so good. It almost feels like an orgasm in and off itself.
Carlos encourages him with a moan and a, “Yes Alex, come on, be a good alpha, take what you need,” And that’s enough for Alex. He humps against Carlos’ three more time and then he comes.
He gasps like a fish out of water but he can’t help it. The pleasure sparks up and then down his spine like pure electricity. His toes and fingertips tingle and his abdomen cramps so hard he thinks he’ll pull a muscle.
The nice feeling is short lived though. What comes after is the disgusting wet feeling of cum in his jogging pants. It’s an absurd amount, flooding hotly against his skin and drenching the fabric.
“Fuck,” Alex whines, writhing in disgust where Carlos is pinning him down.
“Let me help you,” Carlos coos and gently helps Alex out of his clothes. Alex himself actually doesn’t do much, just lifts his hips or a leg.
The next few things happen on auto pilot and Alex can’t say that he was actually involved in getting them there. But the result is they’re both naked on the bed, Alex leaning against the headboard and Carlos straddling his hips.
There’s wetness dripping onto Alex’ lap, he belatedly realises that it’s Carlos’ slick. Because he’s an omega, he produces that, of course, stupid of Alex to be surprise by it… He doesn’t have time to dwell on it though, because Carlos sits down on his cock in one swift motion.
The haze only deepens.
Alex is vaguely aware that he’s even getting satisfaction out of this. He’s grunting and growling, hips snapping up into Carlos’ slick, slick heat with reckless abandon as he’s searching for more. There’s a loud wet sound and Alex isn’t sure what it is. But in the end, it’s doesn’t matter. It doesn’t take him long to cum again, this time – for the first time ever – knotting someone.
The feeling is phantastic. It’s pure adrenaline and endorphins and for a moment, all pain and discomfort leave his body. His mind goes blank but at least the urges are all gone too. All of his feeling focusses down onto where Carlos’ body is cradling his knot, tight and hot, as Alex comes burst after burst.
His head thuds against the back of the bed but he clearly feels how Carlos reaches between them to jerk himself off. He comes too, not as quickly as Alex and it’s only with a low sigh.
“Tha- Thank you,” Alex rasps out. For a moment his head is levelled again and he realizes how thankful he has to be to Carlos. During all this- crazy shit he’s here for him, taking care of him and letting him fuck him. That’s a true mark of friendship and support.
“Don’t thank me yet,” Carlos huffs, settling a little where he’s still perched of Alex’ cock. He reaches over to the side table and take a protein bar of each of them. Alex struggles to open his so Carlos does it for him. “This will be one of your last sober moments. Enjoy it while you can…” He’s not saying it in a mean way, it feels more like a warning.
That is the last sure thing Alex remembers.
The next days are a blur of sleep, cum, eat, cum, shower, repeat. The hours blend into each other and sometimes Alex wakes up on the floor, expecting it to be daylight but the moon is glowing pearlescent in the sky.
Carlos tries to coax him back into the nest but Alex only gets in to fuck him. Then he returns to the floor where he, even though he freezes, feels the most comfortable.
It feels weird, to fully give into his new self like this. It feels like he’s letting lose the reigns and is just a passenger in his own body. His mind flips between torturous need and glorious relief – a messed-up feedback loop that feels like it’s never going to end.
His brain demands knot, knot, knot but there’s always another persistent thing inside of him that whispers back, “George, George, George…”
But his rut does end, eventually.
Alex comes back to, lying on the floor under a mountain of blankets. His body aches from head to toe but especially his hips and thighs feel like the muscles are on fire. Not even after the longest and most gruelling workouts has he felt like this…
As a small mercy, most of the bad symptoms are gone. His skin feels fine, so does his head – the disembodied voice quiet – and his dick feels smaller and dry where it’s tugged into his own briefs. Alex also doesn’t feel hungry or thirsty.
There’s a sound coming from the bathroom, where Carlos emerges from a moment later. He’s fully dressed, hair washed and styled. He’s looking down at his phone, typing rapidly.
He looks pristine, not even a limp to his walk that would reveal that he just had- an uncertain amount of day’s marathon sex.
Starting from there, Alex asks tiredly, “What day is it?” His voice is thick, like he’s slept for half a day. He scrubs his eyes, trying to at least rid them of the exhaustion.
Carlos looks at him in surprise, like he didn’t expect him to be awake yet. But he answers in an even voice, “Thursday.”
“Thursday?!” Alex repeats, head swimming as he lets himself sink deeper into the pillows and blankets. He’s been having his rut since late Sunday night- that’s- five days. They should be in China by now, they have media, team obligations, a race to prepare for- “But we’re- in Australia? How-”
“-Not at all, not you, at least,” Carlos answers. There’s an edge to his tone as he pockets his phone and sits down on a freshly made bed, looking down at Alex.
“What?” Alex asks, looking up at him.
From up close like this, he can really take in Carlos’ scent.
It’s cleaner now, the sugar barely noticeable under the vanilla and coffee. He smells masculine like this but in a comfortable, familiar way – not as oppressive as before.
Alex had known that an omega’s or alpha’s scent could change with their emotional or physical state but he didn’t expect the difference to be so drastic.
“You will not drive in China, Franco will,” Carlos says firmly and it leaves no room for negotiation. “Your body is not ready to withstand the pressure of driving the car. I barely got you through this rut in one piece.”
Usually, Alex would argue with anyone that wants to keep him from driving. Instead – inexplicably – he just nods.
Carlos never had this effect on Alex before. Sure, he respected him as a more experienced driver but it was always an eye-to-eye respect thing. But not any more – Carlos is an omega- his pack omega and Alex will have to respect him. Listen to him.
Alex suddenly feels awfully like crying and it’s not- he doesn’t have a reason.
He should be grateful that Carlos took evidently great care of him and let himself be subjected to four days of probably mediocre sex. He should be grateful that the team lets him skip a grand prix and rest his body after such an all-encompassing transformation. He should be grateful, that he got blessed at almost 30 with getting a second gender – something that will help him succeed in motorsport.
But emotionally, he doesn’t feel that way.
It hits him then, that he’ll never be like he was before. Alex will never be a beta again – he’ll have to deal with all of this for the rest of his life, the good and the bad. He’s not the Alex from before and he never will be.
“Who’ll drive your car?” Alex asks, swallowing down the lump in his throat and willing himself to not start crying. He has to think about something- anything else.
“I will drive it,” Carlos sighs. He looks tired too but not as awful as Alex feels. “Can you stand up? My flight leaves in an hour but I don’t want to leave you if you’re not stable.”
Alex nods and pushes the blankets off of himself. Even without them, the coldness isn’t as bad as it was before his rut and he mostly feels normal. His legs are shaky but he manages to push himself up and stay standing. Carlos watches him, appraisingly and then nods, “I added you to the pack group chat.” And hands Alex his phone.
He immediately opens it and its indeed Thursday, 10:14.
His phone is flooded with messages, from the quick scan he does, mostly congratulatory from other drivers, Williams crew, friends and family. Notable are his missed calls though – 8 – all of them from George over the span of the last few days.
Alex flinches, when in that exact moment, another call comes through. He’s staring at the screen, transfixed, as George’s name and number flash up.
Years ago, when they were in a funny mood, they attached bad photos of each other to their caller IDs.
In George’s photo he’s a scraggly, skinny 18-year-old with his worst haircut – cropped short and the top spikey. He’s sitting shirtless on a beach, sipping coconut water from a straw. The photo was taken in an inopportune moment: George’s eyes are half closed and his posture is scrunched up. He’s sunburned but also pale, wearing downright ugly and unflattering swimming trunks.
But Alex’ eyes catch on the way George’s thin lips are puckered around the straw, sucking in the milky white liquid-
The phone gets snatched from his hands and an impromptu, snappy growl escapes Alex. A sound he’s never made before in his life. Almost like a yapping dog – embarrassing.
“You need to control yourself or everyone will be able to smell your emotions,” Carlos says simply, declining the call and blocking George’s number, right where Alex can see it. His face is not angry or disgusted, more- disconcerted. He hands Alex his phone back and states, “You said his name. All the time while you were in rut. You were begging for him.”
Alex feels himself go red and he goes to stammer, “I’m sorry-”
“-No need,” Carlos waves off but there’s a change in the note of his scent that Alex can’t place. “We are not a couple – you do not owe me anything. This was a medical necessity and I know that you didn’t ask for this.” Alex can feel himself getting even more red and uncomfortable at the admission. He didn’t want this but neither did Carlos, who’s eyes go stern as he says, “You’re an alpha now. The pack will give you comfort and Lewis and I will take care of you. Leave George be for the moment. Your- friendship can resume once you’ve gotten the hang of all of this.” He looks Alex up and down, not displeased or angry but there’s an expectation in his large brown eyes. “Yes?”
“Okay,” Alex breathes out. Carlos will know what’s best. He’s been an omega for almost a decade now. He knows how all of this should work. Alex on the other hand, is clueless. He feels very off kilter anyway – he wouldn’t be any good like this for George. “What- should I do now?” He asks, fiddling with the hem of the shirt he’s wearing.
“Patrick booked you and him a flight to London tomorrow and he’ll do a physical check-up once I’m gone. You’ll be able to spend your birthday with your family, which is a good thing, I think… Your focus should be to eat, sleep, rest and get used to your alpha. Try feeling the new power and energy in your body. It’ll feel weird but you’ll get used to it,” Carlos counts out, as if it’s the most natural thing.
“How do I- Is there a trick to getting used to him? My alpha?” Alex asks, shuddering when he remembers the feeling shortly before his rut started. The other voice inside his head, wanting things Alex didn’t.
“It comes on its own mostly,” Carlos says easily while he’s going about the room, packing the last of his things. “Test out what he wants and needs. You might benefit from moving to the smallest room in your apartment and making a den. If you have a trusted omega, ask them to make a nest for you. I would also recommend staying away from crowded places and wearing a mask on the plane, it helps with the scents.”
“Do I need- scent blockers? Suppressants? I- A doctor?” Alex does a visible shake at that and his stomach rolls anxiously. This new body comes with so many more responsibilities and things to look out for… He should have listened more closely in second gender education in school.
“No suppressants or blockers for the first half year,” Carlos says firmly, where he’s pulling on his shoes. Strangely, Alex doesn’t want him to go yet. He wants to go back to bed, curl up together – maybe have a little cry. “The team doctor will want to see you and do a few tests before the next grand prix. A presentation this late- It can come with issues.”
“What issues?” Alex asks, head swimming and he sinks down onto the bed.
Unbidden, he’s started to sweat. He’ll probably need to see so many doctors now- So many needles and examinations and-
“Hormone dysregulation mostly, it can really fuck you up now,” Carlos explains. “But most of it is a mental thing. Panicking and worrying only makes it worse. If you’re mentally strong, you can overcome those urges and feelings. It takes time but I’m sure you’ll get there.”
‘Mentally strong’. Before all of this happened, yes, Alex would have called himself that. He survived Red Bull and years in a shitty back marker team with little to no bad emotions attached to that.
But now, he’s not so sure anymore – of anything.
He's ripped from his spiralling thoughts by a gentle hand on his arm. “This is all not ideal but I need to go. Call Lewis or me if you struggle with anything or just want someone to talk, okay? Patrick will be here any minute now,” Carlos says, looking down at him, caring and kind.
Alex almost asks him to stay.
He doesn’t want to be alone but Carlos needs to go and so there’s no helping it. He nods. And Carlos leaves, leaving Alex behind with only his scent stuck to the sheets. Embarrassingly, Alex curls up there and falls right back asleep, body and mind to frail to stay awake any longer.
Patrick gives him a once over an hour later but pronounces Alex healthy and in good condition – like a dog… Alex complains about it but as usual, Patrick is rather immovable.
They spent the rest of the day planning out a new exercise regime and a different food plan. Alex has to eat even more protein now but also can have more calories, which is more than fine by him.
“I also texted your mum, told her you’d be staying over for your birthday,” Patrick says, shortly before he’s leaving for the night.
“I’m- not sure I want to go,” Alex admits, feeling shamefully revolted at the thought of seeing his parents.
The last week feels like a fever dream now. Like it’s not- real. Like all of this hasn’t registered with him yet and once he’ll leave this hotel room, he’ll be a beta again.
“I consulted Carlos and the internet and they both say it’s better for you,” Patrick shrugs with an apologetical face. He’s a beta – of course he won’t know himself what’s best to do in this situation…
“Okay, thanks,” Alex answers, feeling even more hollow.
He'll have to go to his parents, sleep in his old childhood room, watch the race with his father on TV. It feels wrong – all of this feels wrong.
Notes:
Up next: Alone
Chapter Text
GEORGE
Alex never answers any of George’s text. Not a single one in the three weeks between Australia and Japan.
Franco drives Alex’ car and his overly flirty, out-there behaviour grates on George’s nerves – he’s acting like the seat and the car is his, when really, it’s Alex’ and Franco was only allowed to drive it because he was there and- It drives George nuts.
Not only because Alex hasn’t answered his calls either but also because he knows that a rut shouldn’t stop him from driving. Lando has his ruts before grand prix all the time – even makes it his business to tell George whenever he did and telling him it improves his performance… But Alex isn’t there in China. And he doesn’t call George back either when he knows for a fact that his rut should be over by now.
George can’t recall a time where that ever happened. Sure, sometimes caught between different flights and time zones it took them a day or two to answer a message. But never a week – never three. Not when it was Alex’ birthday.
Still, when Williams announces that Alex will be racing again in Japan, George is relieved and cautiously optimistic.
Maybe Alex just needed some alone time to get himself together with the new second gender and all of that… George isn’t actually really sure what that entails but he guesses it’s a bit different to be an alpha all of the sudden. Maybe these are special circumstances where not texting or answering calls for three weeks is acceptable.
So when George stands in front of the Mercedes hospitality, signing something for a few fans and taking pictures, and Alex walks into the paddock, he just feels happy to finally be able to lay eyes on him, see that he’s really okay.
Alex doesn’t look much different than before, still tall and handsome and fit- No. George can’t go there… It’s even more evident what line he shouldn’t cross when behind Alex’ large frame, Carlos walks with a few other people in Williams team kits. He looks glowing and content, just like he did in China and George can tell, that he – like the rest of the pack – is happy to have Alex.
George keeps watching them, how they halt to sign a few caps for fans and take photos.
There’s a twinge in his guts: They look good together. Alpha and omega. Alex tall and lithe and Carlos small and strong.
Carlos and the team guys laugh at something a fan shows them but Alex only gives a distracted smile, otherwise keeping to staring ahead mindlessly. No – maybe with too much mind…
A hollow feeling rises in George’s chest. He knows how Alex looks when he’s unhappy and spiralling – too much inside of his own head to get back to reality. That’s what he looks like now. Normal from the outside but miserable on the inside.
George excuses himself from the fans when Alex and Carlos are at the hight of the Mercedes hospitality. He just wants to smile at him, ask him how he’s doing, wish him luck- So he’s maybe a bit overly cheery when he walks up to them and greets, “Hey Alex-”
But Alex doesn’t look at him. Instead, he flinches, head turning away from George so he doesn’t have to look at him. And then walks even quicker in the direction of the Williams hospitality.
“Hey, sorry,” Carlos says quickly, sparing George with just one tight-lipped glance. And then he too walks away.
George stands there for way too long, watching them walk and then disappear into the bowls of the Williams hospitality.
Alex- ignored him. No, not just ignored him he flinched away and then ran. And Carlos said sorry. What is he apologising for?
George can feel himself going red and he too quickly disappears into the Mercedes hospitality. No one stops him on his way to his driver’s room and he’s glad for it. That was maybe the most embarrassing moment in his life and he’s the guy know for t-posing in 2024…
George shuts the door to his driver’s room quietly but really he wants to slam it shut and scream.
He doesn’t know why this is happening but it’s clear that Alex doesn’t want to speak with him. Not only that, he’s embarrassed to be seen with him.
White hot shame rushes over George’s whole body at the thought of who might have seen him be so openly rejected. Probably a few fans – maybe a few journalist… He can already see the headline ‘George Russell being pathetic?! It’s more likely than you think.’
No, he won’t accept that. So he goes right back out of his driver’s room where he passes Aleix who can barely get, “You have press in half an hour-” Out before George has breezed past him.
This is not how Alex and him do things. Sure, they haven’t really talked about the thing between them – the years spent sleeping together and caring for one another like partners – but everything else was always out in the open. This won’t change it. And if Alex is really too good to be seen with George now, he’ll have to say it to his face like a grown up.
Between these thoughts, seething anger and sickening shame, George arrives at the Williams hospitality.
Even with two years spent away from the team, Williams and the people there still always feel like home to George. There are a few new faces every year but he’s there so often with Alex that it doesn’t really feel like he’s an outsider. He’s always just been permitted to the public spaces of the hospitality – and Alex’ driver’s room of course…
But today, a small blond guy from PR – James or John or Joe – steps in his way before George can even get to the entrance and asks with a slim smile, “Hey, how can we help you, George?”
“I just wanted to see Alex,” George shrugs, trying to smile casually, “How’s it going?”
The guy is the only one from the Williams crew that’s standing outside and belatedly, George realises that it feels almost like he’s guarding the place. Which J-something confirms when he says, “Sorry, you can’t come in.” His voice is apologetic but not in a way that give George hope that he can talk himself in.
He still tries, propping his hands up on his hips and putting on a charming but concerned face, “Why? I just wanted to talk-”
“-Not at the moment, okay? Maybe at the next grand prix,” J interrupts him, not quite rude but definitely not polite either. “The team needs to settle.” And that at least does sound like he’s sorry and his face does something sympathetic too.
George is stunned, frankly, and stutters, “Okay, sure yes. Of course- time to settle.”
What does that mean – time to settle? Alex hasn’t died or anything, he’s just an alpha now. He’s still the same person, why does everyone act like he’s so different now? Like this is such a fundamental change?
But George has to turn around and go, because what else can he do? He was ready for a discussion at least, maybe a fight but not to be denied entry like any common paddock visitor. Like it didn’t matter who he is to Williams or Alex.
He walks back to Mercedes, robotic and stiff. By now he’s been in and out so much that it probably looks strange but his mind can’t focus on that.
Maybe Alex really doesn’t want to be associated with him anymore. Maybe- he really means it. Maybe it’s not just some strange newly presenting shyness. Maybe- this is it. Maybe they’re not friends anymore. Maybe not even paramours. Maybe George is now just a dirty smudge in Alex’ past.
The feeling hits George like a punch to the guts.
After all these years of friendship – almost twenty years – Alex is willing to throw it all away on a random Thursday. No explanation or excuses, just the blank nothingness of ghosting George.
Was it something he did? Were those ten odd calls too much? The texts? The worry?
It probably made Alex realize how helplessly, hopelessly committed George is to him – to them. And it probably makes him uncomfortable now, to think that he was with a beta. A beta that still desperately wants to be connected to him.
A hand curls around George’s arm and he gets ripped from his thoughts.
Toto is looking down at him where he’s gotten up from his seat at the entrance of the Mercedes hospitality. At the table behind him a few other higher ups are sitting and George tries but fails to give them a sincere smile.
“Were you visiting Alex just then? How is he doing?” Toto quips leisurely, letting go of George’s arm and pushes his sunglass from his long nose onto his head.
“I tried, they won’t let me in,” George admits quietly, shellshocked still.
“Ah yes, newly presented alphas need a contained environment. You’ll see him at the driver’s parade on Sunday,” Toto waves off, a bit apologetically and for the first time in ages, George actively notices that Toto is an alpha. The thickness around him, the non-descript presence of a scent that George as a beta can’t smell. Alex had that too just a few minutes ago. “How are you feeling with the set-up changes? Come sit with us,” And Toto pulls George to the table, unaware of his distress.
George follows but only because he doesn’t have the wherewithal to refuse. He really shouldn’t be in public now, not with how many people probably saw him get rejected by Alex and then the whole of the Williams team. Toto maybe saw that too, maybe is embarrassed-
But Toto smiles at him and facilitates a conversation between George and one of the representatives from Petronas, who enthusiastically congratulates George on two podium finishes in a row.
George has to work to pull himself together but he manages it and there’s comfort in that. He’s a fucking F1 driver, not a baby. Nothing is more important than this. He’ll be damned if he lets a- a guy ruin it for him. No, he finished two grand prix in a row on the podium and he’ll really have a shot at the championship this year. No one will ruin that for him – not even Alex.
Alex only exists in George’s periphery for the rest of the weekend. He sees him sometimes, being interviewed or otherwise always in company of a pack member. But George manages to focus on himself and gets another acceptable qualifying in – fifth, which is his worst placement of the season but he’ll take it.
He only comes face to face with Alex during the driver’s parade, just how Toto predicted. He doesn’t try to approach him and anyway, with the pack flocking around him he wouldn’t have dared.
George notices then, how they have already assimilated him. Charles is leaning at Alex’ side, the omega laughing up at him and both Max and Oscar are standing close as well, looking comfortable. Alex does too, now that he’s not being harassed by George anymore… He smiles and talks and jokes around.
Lando slinks over to George from where he was standing alone at the railing and waving sporadically at the crowd. “We should play padel again some time. Max, Alex, me and you,” He quips, leaning next to George and shooting him an easy smile, typical Lando.
“Sure, totally,” George quickly replies on instinct but then he panics. What if he’ll actually have to play padel with them? Alex ignoring him and the other noticing and asking questions and then- God, it’s making him cringe already. “I- No, actually it’s not okay… Alex and I haven’t spoken since-” George admits, trailing off.
Lando makes a confused face, head leaning to the side like a puppy and he looks about ready to ask what’s going on, when Max’ loud voice interrupts them, “Hey Lando! When did you present again?”
It immediately changes Lando’s focus. His worried frown snaps into a grin and he hollers, “18, two days after my birthday. I spent a week sequestered in the shed.” With that he’s gone, not physically but mentally. Lando is like that, quickly distracted. And then he slowly but surely drifts off physically too, towards the group of his packmates. George stays behind.
“Not easy, huh?” Fernando says from his other side, unexpectedly close from where he was just speaking with Yuki at the other side of the vehicle.
“No, it’s okay. I get it,” George waves off and for once it’s true. He can’t fault Lando, never has. Whoever is friends with Lando needs to accept the way he is and often it is something George enjoys about him. No one can live the highs of life like him, enjoy the good things as much as he does. No one can find joy in the strangeness of life like Lando.
But Fernando doesn’t seem to think the same, saying in a snippy tone, “It’s always like this. I’ve seen it happen again and again and again. Driver has friends, presents with second gender – suddenly he has completely new friends. This belongs into F1 as well. Them presenting, changing and us staying the same.”
Fernando has been in F1 for so long – he must have seen countless presentations and the changes that come with them…
George has been cautious to google things.
The internet usually only makes him feel more anxious and obsessed so he tried to stay away as much as possible. He could have googled what changes with a late presentation like Alex’ but he wasn’t brave enough.
He was worried he’d read that it’s painful or dangerous but now that he sees the social changes first hand, he wishes he would have been prepared.
“Does it get better?” George wonders out loud, aiming to prompt Fernando to tell him more.
“Eh…” Fernando shrugs. “Alex might find his head again, or not. Alphas are pain anyway, not good to have as friends…” And he smiles up at George. But even with his sunglasses on, George can tell the accessing look Fernando gives him before he asks, “You’re jealous?”
“Of Alex? No, no,” George can’t help but shake. No, he wouldn’t like to be an alpha, not at all… But he would be lying if he didn’t admit, “It’s- it makes me see the difference. How people treated him then and now. It’s just a few weeks of change but now-”
“-It’s all different?” Fernando supplies.
George nods quickly, finally having found a person that understands, “Yeah, the media hails him as if he’s won a championship but to me he’s still just- Alex.”
“The media will say that, all this alpha and omegas hype. I’ve won two world championships and I am also ‘just Fernando’,” He bites out and for the first time, there is real discontent in his voice. George can’t blame him.
He’s noticed of course before, how in conversations about ‘the greats’ of Formula 1, only people with a second gender get mentioned. Alpha Michael Schuhmacher, alpha Lewis Hamilton, omega Ayrton Senna, alpha Alain Prost… Even one time championship winner Nico Rossberg gets mentioned before Fernando, who has two.
But he is a beta – Nico is an omega and that’s the difference that matters.
“I’m sorry, Fernando,” George says, suddenly feeling very emotional. He was always aware of the disadvantage of betas in motor sport but until now, he hasn’t really felt it himself. “Why haven’t we talked about this before?” He wishes they had before Alex presented. Maybe it could have changed both of their perspectives…
“Not good to dwell on it – it is what it is,” Fernando shrugs again and shoots George a sad smile. He changes the topic, “Your season started well, no? Do you talk about a championship campaign at Mercedes?”
“Yes, the car is quite good,” George smiles, grateful at the reminder of his and his team’s performance.
But Fernando repeats, “And a championship?” And there’s a sharp look in his eyes.
“I don’t think Toto likes to call it that too early,” George waves off. He himself has of course thought about it – a lot… But Toto isn’t like that, he likes to keep things realistic and level, preparing but not over-fretting.
“Back then he used to,” Fernando says, nodding towards Lewis who has joined his pack with Carlos. “Make him put his priority on you. Kimi drives too well. If you don’t watch it, he’ll take your space in the team,” Fernando warns.
“He’s 18, I doubt he’ll accomplish much this and the next season,” George splutters, taken aback.
Sure, Kimi is performing well for a rookie but not that well… George has outqualified and driven better in the two grand prix that have happened. Kimi is bound to make rookie mistakes, even in a car as good as this year’s Mercedes.
“I think he’s sly,” Fernando sneers. “Plays little omega but is like a snake in the grass.” And he glares over to where Kimi and Olli are standing, deep in conversation with each other.
George watches them for a moment, the way they lean into one another. Both of them just presented a few months ago and both have yet to endure another rut or heat after their presenting one.
George wonders if they’ll spend it together and what that is like, to be trusted and have someone that trusts you like that… And what it’s like to have your best friend be your puzzle piece. What it’s like for nature to say, ‘You’ll be an alpha, Ollie, and you’ll be an omega, Kimi. Look, what a perfect match you are – how nicely you fit together.’
“P5, George, P5,” Marcus’ voice sounds in George’s ears as he crosses the finish line.
The adrenaline rushes through him still and his hands shake uncharacteristically hard. The grand prix was a hard-fought battle but George made it work, like he so often does.
“This is exactly why I love a beta. Great steadiness, good result, George, even with the tire issues,” Toto appreciates him over the radio as well as well, after Marcus tells him the setting for his cool down lap. Usually, George wouldn’t have blinked twice at the statement but after his conversation with Fernando, something curdles up inside of him.
Toto has always appreciated him but now that George has the change of perspective- why does he always mention that he’s a beta? Why does it matter? What does it change?
“Thanks, Toto, thanks to the team,” George says, between gritted teeth.
ALEX
Alex feels like a puppet with his strings cut as he climbs onto the bus that’ll drive them around the track for the driver’s parade. His body still feels strange, his head even more so. All of the smells and sounds of the weekend have given him a headache and even worse – he smells George everywhere.
Now that his new scent receptors are fully developed, it’s easier than ever to distinguish alphas and omegas from betas. Where alphas mostly have these rich and nature-y smells, omegas are often more floral or refined. Both is equally as enticing, especially now that Alex’ alpha associates their smells with the instinctive, immediate comfort of a pack.
But between that, all the time, wherever he is, is the clean and neutral smell of a beta – of George.
He doesn’t smell like any other beta does, no, George smells delectable. He smells soft and clean, like laundry detergent and the spicy afternote of his cologne. It screams comfort and familiarity in a way nothing else does.
It’s everything Alex isn’t supposed to want anymore. George is a beta they cannot- they can’t.
Still, more than once, Alex has found himself following his scent this weekend. Each and every time he’d come to, half way already between the Williams and Mercedes hospitality building, feeling like a man possessed. Like his alpha takes over and Alex is just- a passenger in his own body.
It's strange, how the alpha in him reacts to things now.
Just this morning he’d growled at Carlos for picking up a sweatshirt from Alex’ driver’s room floor. Both of them knew though that it’s not just any old sweatshirt… No, this one had been a gift from George at the start of the season and in the depth of the fabric, there’s still some of his scent left over.
Alex doesn’t feel like himself as he finds a place at the back of the bus with Max, Lando and Charles.
George isn’t there yet but he will be soon – Alex already dreads the moment. The way George had looked Thursday morning- when Alex had to walk past him- had to because he’s unsure what he’d done. Kissed George, maybe. Grabbed him and never let him go.
“There you are, Albono,” Charles greets happily. He closes an arm around Alex’ shoulder and pulls him close, a purr immediately shaking both of their bodies. That’s different too – as if on command, Alex’ body sacks a little and relaxes into the omega at his side. “You smell really good! Almost a bit- flowery?” Charles praises, leaning up to scent Alex’ neck.
This is normal behaviour now but Alex still has to fight not to cringe away. His alpha on the other hand, feels highly pleased. So he lets Charles scent him, caught between himself and his instincts.
“Here, let me smell,” Max buds in. He’s much less soft about it, just sticks his nose into Alex’ neck and appraises, “Yes, very nice. I smell earth and metal, almost a bit rusty.”
“Definitely not as intense as other newly presented alphas, but that might be because of your age,” Charles agrees. “When Lando presented you could barely stand two meters next to him… The whole F2 paddock smelled like a rotten orchard for a month.”
Alex remembers that – or more accurately, he remembers being told that. A few of the mechanics and other team members made comments. At that point, Alex himself hadn’t thought about presenting because he had been deemed too old and it didn’t interest him much. Now it does.
“I’ll have you know that I’ve been told I smell like expensive wine,” Lando snips, crossing his arms like he’s displeased. But his briny, sour fruit smell doesn’t go bitter or acidic, instead it goes almost sweet, like he’s happy with the attention. Like this, Alex untrained nose wouldn’t be able to distinguish him from an omega. No one teases Lando about it so Alex doesn’t either.
“Olli also doesn’t smell bad for a newly presented alpha,” Kimi buds in from the side. He still acts shy around Alex but he’s quickly warming up, giving him a sweet smile.
“If you like woody scents, sure,” Charles shrugs and Kimi goes beet red, receding a bit to stand closer with Olli. “But I prefer Alex’ earth scent, it’s so- mature. It gives me- already mated vibes. It’s giving locked down and ready to provide.” And Charles gives Alex a horrible wink.
If Alex didn’t know that Charles is already mated, he’d be really worried about this kind of attention but like this, it only reminds him of the way they used to joke around when they played games online. It comforts him, unconnected to his new alpha status.
“That’s true, if I didn’t know I’d guess that you’d have mated an omega that smells like flowers, orchids or something,” Lando considers, lazily sniffing around Alex as well.
A new wave of drivers walks onto the bus and Alex immediately gets distracted.
For a dreaded, short moment his eyes search for George’s. But he doesn’t even look up to see who he's gotten onto the bus with, instead he posts up at the end of the bus – alone.
Alex is both relieved and horrified. George shouldn’t be forced to be alone… He should be smiling, in company, happy- But luckily, Lando dissolves from their little group and joins George, who looks please enough to see him.
Lewis and Nico join them, which prompts another scenting round as the bus finally starts to move.
“That how it works? With the scents of mates mixing?” Alex asks, looking through the round gathered. He still sometimes feels embarrassed to ask things he should know… But he hasn’t bothered going to a doctor yet and he doesn’t trust anyone else to answer his questions honestly.
“Usually,” Lewis nods. “Mates’ scents mix, both because they are close in proximity but also the individual partner’s smell changes. Nico here smelled like a bloodbath before he mated his omega, now he's just rusty smelling.” And there’s a teasing edge to his tone.
“Better than your storm turning into a light dewy mist,” Nico counters, German accent thick on his tongue.
Lewis laughs and gives him a clap on the shoulder, “What can I say? My Nico mellowed me,” And he smiles a fond, happy smile.
Alex has heard the story of their mating a thousand times – even as a beta there was no way escaping it… Childhood best friend, turned rivals, turned imprinted pair, turned enemies, turned mates after Nico’s retirement. Alex had always found it a bit cheesy and exaggerated but thinking about it now makes him feel strangely touched.
Around him the group has shifted a little, Olli and Kimi have receded, Charles is talking with Pierre on the side and Lando is back. Immediately, Alex’ eyes check for George but the beta is accompanied by Fernando now.
It stirs something odd inside of him. Lando is pack, alpha or not, so Alex’ alpha trusts him. But Fernando- he’s an outsider. And he’s leaning in to look up at George in a conspiratorial way. Too close.
Alex decides he doesn’t like it, not at all.
Again, he feels out of his body as he walks a few steps towards them. But he’s caught by Charles’ hand, pulling him into the conversation with Pierre. Their presence brings him right back to himself and he wants to give himself a smack.
He doesn’t have any business controlling George and who he talks to. And he never had any issues with Fernando – so why would he now?
Alex pulls himself together and sticks with Charles. Pierre leaves some time, going to talk with Esteban which gives Alex the chance to ask a question that’s been on his mind for some time, “Why are you always wearing blockers, Charles? I’ve been wondering about that. You don’t need to wear them but you do.”
Blockers are only mandatory in official settings like exams, court proceeding and if an alpha or omega are in heat or rut in public. Any other time it’s legal in most countries to just wear your scent out. But Charles doesn’t – never has since he mated, from what Alex has heard.
“Oh, yes,” Charles smiles shily. “I come from a family of betas so I just feel more comfortable like this when everyone cannot tell- my emotions and all of that immediately.”
Alex nods. He gets that, vaguely… Until now, his pack knowing his emotions has only ever helped him. They support him when he needs it, pull him in when he gets distressed, guid him when he’s unsure. It only feels like a positive thing.
“What do you smell like?” He asks, purely out of curiosity.
“I used to smell like spring flowers, before I mated,” Charles explains, waving at the crowd as they pass by.
Alex mirrors him, “And now?”
“It is private. To me, who I mated,” Charles says. He isn’t cold or angry but Alex still feels a little taken aback… He’s never not been allowed to know what people smell like – until now. Charles seems to smell his discomfort and frowns, ever benevolent, “Sorry, Alex, but the pack doesn’t need to know everything and I don’t want there to be- talk.” Alex nods dumbly but he doesn’t understand why there would be ‘talk’ around Charles’ mate. “Lewis and Seb approved of them and so did my family.”
“Is that important? That they approve our mates?” Alex asks, mind immediately preoccupied be the new information.
“No and yes, depends if you believe in traditions,” Charles weighs. “Usually yes, you go to your pack alpha and omega to ask for their approval. I asked afterwards- it was all quite quick.”
Charles blushes at that admission and Alex can’t help but smile. Charles has been mated for three years now and he still seems very in love.
“You’re happy?” Alex asks, just to see Charles blush even harder and give him a light smack on the arm.
“Very,” Charles smiles, smitten, and it feels like Alex is looking at the sun. “And you will be too. When we go out, I’ll find you a pretty omega. I actually have a few friends from Monaco who are single. The prettiest omegas in the world are from Monaco if you ask me-”
As if summoned, Carlos appears, giving Charles a brotherly smack to the back of the head, “Aye cabron! Don’t go around playing matchmaker. Also, everyone knows Spain has the prettiest omegas, don’t disrespect your pack omega.”
Both Charles and Alex laugh at that, which earns them an eyeroll from Carlos.
Alex smells Max before he sees him. The sudden, eye-watering smell of petrol fuel fills his nose and makes him want to recoil. Neither Charles nor Carlos seem disturbed though and so Max’ trumpet voice follows, “Yes, Charles is always so disrespectful,” He drawls but with a big smile.
Usually, Max doesn’t smell this strong but he does now and Alex struggle to discern the emotion that has caused the intensity in his scent. The three around him keep teasing and bickering, so Alex recons it’s nothing serious.
He does feel himself getting distracted again and unbidden, Alex watches George again. He’s alone now, the other betas from the grid standing to the side of him. Fernando is still close but Yuki and Jack are there too, occupying his attention.
George’s eyes are glued to somewhere behind Alex and when he turns around, he realizes that it’s Kimi and Olli, standing closely huddle together in the far back of the truck. There’s a strange look in George’s eyes; one Alex has never seen on him and doesn’t know what to call.
He feels like he’s terribly missing something. That with his presentation, a part of the world has opened and another has closed up to him. George is left in that old world, behind an insurmountable barrier.
Alex gulps down an over-amount of spit. He just needs to stay away from him for a bit longer – than they can try to be friends again. Carlos said so. He’ll be right. Alex’ alpha just needs to learn that there can’t be anything physical between them anymore and then they can be friends again. It’s so that both of them can be save.
With a startling shock, George’s eyes turn onto Alex’.
His whole body flushes hot as blue meets brown. Need, need, need.
It’s just the blink of an eye, then George turns around to wave at the crowd, face impassive. But the damage has been done, Alex can distinctly feel it at the base of his dick, how he’s slightly knotted up. Just from one look.
A meter away, Esteban and Pierre both suddenly turn their heads towards him. Esteban wrinkles his nose while Pierre’s lips crack into a sly smile.
Alex jerks around, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans to hide the visible bulge.
He distantly feels that he’s in big, big trouble.
The race is alright, better than he expected all things considered. Alex qualified p9 but fights tooth and nail to keep that position. His body feels weird – new and strange in unexpected moments.
Still, he fights like he's on fire. He feels like he responds much quicker; muscles taunt and ready. He’s more focused too, even when another driver comes too close and they almost drive into each other.
“Come on, Alex, push,” James urges. “That’s it, more aggression, put him under pressure.”
Somewhere in the periphery of his brain, Alex realizes how nonsensically that request is. He’s yet to pit and the Mercedes in front of him is on fresh medium tires… But he does it anyway, high of the adrenalin and the feeling of hunting something.
He doesn’t catch George of course but he makes it to p6, so close that he can see him on the cool down lap and sticks to his rear wing like a shadow. It doesn’t replace the closeness he craves but it’s good enough to see George’s head turn towards him in the bowl of his helmet when Alex passes him to pull off into parc ferme.
When Alex steps outside of the Williams hospitality after the debriefs have concluded, the night air is cool and fresh. The suffocating smell of cherry blossom has settled and given way to the comforting smell of a rainy night ahead.
The shadows between the different buildings have grown long but Alex is in no rush. His hotel room only promises an empty bed and mediocre trainer-approved food… Maybe he should swing by the pack room, it’s usually the last place to get cleared out after a race and maybe he could find comfort there.
But he doesn’t get that far because a person melts out of the shadows to his right.
“Alex,” George says, cautiously keeping three meters of space between them. The shadows cast harsh lines over his face but his eyes are soft. Alex immediately freezes but takes a deep breath in. “Can we talk?” George asks slowly, looking like he expects Alex to bolt again.
Alex is so caught out by Georges sudden presence that he can do nothing else but nod and follow George into the half-darkness behind the Williams hospitality.
As he gets closer to him, he smells it again – the intoxicating soft scent of a beta. It’s not a void of smell but the presence of this soft and clean space. A space where Alex could spread his scent very well so everyone would know-
George turns around suddenly at a point he deems private enough and Alex almost bumps into him. George doesn’t seem to register it or the embarrassing way Alex scoots back a few steps. He has this fire in his eyes when he presses out, “What the fuck is going on? I know that you blocked me. Why? Did I do something?”
Alex is a little surprised at that, he has to admit.
He somehow didn’t expect George to notice- but then again, maybe he just didn’t want to think about it. He blocked any and every thought about George just so he didn’t need to feel guilty about what he’s done. What he wants to do.
But now that he seems him, it all comes back. How he missed him and how he’s not allowed to touch him anymore.
“I- Carlos did, he-” Alex goes to explain but he doesn’t need to finish the thought to realise how empty it sounds – like a cheap excuse and George deserves better than that. Instead, he veers off, “I’m sorry, George… I was just- it’s all so new. The pack is trying to help me but I struggle every day. I don’t feel like myself.”
The urge to touch George is getting stronger now, with the sure deflation of George’s shoulders and the way his eyes cast down. Submissive and understanding. Alex’ teeth ache.
Of course, George is disappointed and feels rejected – it was stupid of Alex to expect otherwise. Just a week before the season started, they spend two days hauled up in Alex flat, hanging out and fucking to their hearts’ content and suddenly Alex is ghosting him. From everything to nothing, it must have hurt.
“I’m sorry,” George bites out and even though there is a defiant look in his eyes as he glares at Alex, he knows that he still means it. The pit in Alex’ stomach only deepens – George shouldn’t feel this pain because of him. He should be happy and taken care of.
George ploughs on, gesticulating more wildly as he goes on, “I know that there’s a lot going on for you but I was really worried. And I’m confused why Carlos would block me on your phone and why you didn’t want to be seen with me in the paddock on Thursday and why-” He stops himself, wraps his arms protectively around his own middle. After he’s taken a shaky breath, he starts again, more calmly, “I don’t understand what’s happening, Lex.”
Alex’ brain lags behind a little, caught up by the way George’s sweater moved to the side, revealing more of his tone trapezius. His skin is always so soft but elastic at the same time… And he’s just so caring and considerate and-
“You were worried?” Alex gulps out after a too long moment of silence.
“Of course!” George says in exasperation. “Why did you think I was calling you? I was worried sick when I saw the Instagram post and read the news.” His face betrays that he wasn’t just worried sick, he must have been terrified for Alex.
“I- I wasn’t in the right mind, during the- I couldn’t answer any calls,” Alex says, suddenly feeling shy as well. He has to cast his eyes to the side when he admits, “It was different then they said… It wasn’t fun.”
Neither of them has said the words yet: alpha and rut. Alex can tell that George is dancing around it as well, the implication of speaking it into existence between them.
It'll reframe their whole past.
What they had is in a different context now that Alex is an alpha. It’s not supposed to be any more but it was – it undoubtedly was – at least sex and a deep friendship. And Alex doesn’t dare thinking about what it could have become, if his presentation didn’t happen. He can’t.
“Was it bad?” George asks gently, stepping forward and Alex doesn’t have the power to move away.
It's always been like this between them, like magnets, like the sun and the earth, like the moon and the tides. They pull each other.
“Yes and no… Carlos tried his best but- it hurt and I was very confused. I don’t remember much. I was in- for days and I barely remember 30 minutes,” Alex admits but has to shake his head at the memories. It almost feels absurd now, Carlos’ smaller, stocky body where lithe, long limbs should have been.
George pulls a harsh breath in, going to ask but stopping himself, “So he-”
They both know the answer.
And that’s the issue, they weren’t together before, George and him. Not boyfriends, not fuck-buddies, not friends with benefits… They weren’t anything betas have a name for but now that Alex is an alpha, he startingly feels like they were living like a bonded pair – like mates to be. Just missing the bite and a move into the same den to finally become each other’s mate.
The realization strikes him straight in the chest, making his eyes water.
“Yes… Carlos being there, it was-” Alex searches for the right word, one that wouldn’t hurt George even more, “-Convenient.”
George is silent for a long time and Alex doesn’t dare look at him. He really wants to touch him – hug him, be held by him – and tell him that he’s sorry. Make it all right again.
“I’m sorry I got angry,” George says, voice thick and all of Alex revolts. George has no reason to be sorry and has all the right to be angry. Alex’ head snaps up and their eyes meet in a shockingly clear, electric moment. George holds his gaze firmly when he says, “But I don’t get why you’re ignoring me… Are you ashamed to have a beta- friend?”
Alex can’t help but reach out then, the alpha’s hand coming to rest on the betas arm. There is fabric keeping them apart and he wants to rip it away. Instead, he pleads intend, “Georgie- Of course not, it’s just-” I can’t stay away from you. I want you all the time. I miss you but I can’t have you. Everyone will judge us. I’m scared that I’ll hurt you. I’m scare I’ll ruin your life. “-Different now.”
George looks off to the side and even in the low light of their hiding spot, Alex can see he’s going red. The blush is high on his cheeks, bashful, and he wraps his arms around himself more tightly, as if he’s trying to hold himself up.
He must be thinking about the same thing, the endless nights they spend with each other, bodies pressed tight, whispered words between them. Only for them. The laughter they shared, the honesty, the need-
Alex’ skin suddenly prickles all over. Need. He needs George and he has him right here. How did he manage three weeks without speaking to him? How could he have his rut without him? Without the person he trusts the most.
His fingers itch to touch George’s skin. All of it – head to toe. He’s saying something but Alex can’t concentrate on it, his brain going fuzzy around the edges. It’s like a TV without a connection, grainy and static.
The deep feeling inside of Alex tells him to drag George away.
He’ll make a nice den for them in his driver’s room, dark and warm and small. He’ll keep the beta pressed against him so no one else will be able to touch him ever again. He’ll never let anyone see him again.
The beta is his. No one else’s.
He’ll only let him out to drive the car but then afterwards, he’ll get him back as soon as possible. And then he’ll make him forget all of his worries by fucking him so good and biting, biting, biting him-
The alpha surges forward and grabs the beta’s jaw with both of his hands. He preens at the feeling of control but even more satisfying is when he finally presses their lips together in a hard kiss. The betas lips are soft though unmoving and that does bother Alex’ alpha a bit but he still doesn’t pull away.
He’s missed his beta, being so close to him, breathing in his soft scent. Finally, no oppressive or sweet omega scent and no intense or earthy alpha scent. Just the soft curl of clean skin, cologne and something so distinctively-
“Ghmpf,-” George makes in surprise. And immediately, Alex is back with himself.
He kissed George – a beta, he kissed him.
He hadn’t asked. George had been talking about something and Alex just-
Alex rips both his lips and hands off of George, keeping his hands up like he’s being arrested. George is staring at him, eyes impossibly large and wet, for some reason. He still has his hands slung around himself, like he was frozen in time the moment Alex kissed him. But now his lips are shiny and a bit red with spit and-
Oh God, the things Alex wants to do with him.
Inside, he can feel his alpha fretting about, wanting to get inside quickly, take the beta and never let him go again. He’ll make him smile again, they’ll talk, he’ll get him to laugh and it’ll be right again-
But it’s not right, none of this is. Alex is an alpha now and being with George like this is not on the table anymore. He must be so confused by how Alex is behaving… Disgusted maybe. There’s this unreadable expression on his face that, between shock and horror and confusion-
“I’m sorry,” Alex gasps out, desperate to let George know that he’s not a bad alpha and not a bad person. He didn’t mean to do any of it – not kiss George and not present as an alpha. “I’m so sorry! I’m not myself- it’s- this is why Carlos told me to stay away-”
George stays quiet, the only thing that changes, is that his lips fall open a centimetre and one of his hands carefully reaches for them. Like he can’t believe what happened.
George has always had such delicate fingers. Long and bony but skilled in every aspect.
He traces his own bottom lip, swallows, opens them again. He looks like he’s about to say something, a rejection probably and Alex can’t bear the though.
“I’m sorry, George, I can’t do this right now.” And Alex runs away. He turns from George and books it back into the Williams hospitality.
He’s quicker now as an alpha than he was as a beta but either way, it doesn’t seem like George would want to follow him.
Because Alex forcibly kissed him.
George just wanted to talk and Alex’ stupid alpha saw that as an invitation. What’s wrong with him? Something- it’s all wrong. He’s doing it wrong, being an alpha. Just classic Alex, fucking everything up that he touches even when it’s part of his nature – who he is now.
The Williams hospitality is relatively empty but even if it wasn’t, Alex wouldn’t have seen anyone. His eyes are blurred with tears and his skin crawls uncomfortably.
He makes it to his driver’s room which is already packed up but it doesn’t matter, it’s a save enough space anyway.
Alex slides down the door and gets his phone out. He blindly finds the number and dials, “Lewis-” Alex gasps down the phone, hot tears running down his face.
“Alex? Are you alright?” Lewis asks immediately, worry and care clear in his tone.
“I think I- I did something stupid and I feel really bad about it,” Alex admits and for a moment the shame is so insurmountable that he can’t speak or explain.
“What? Where are you?” Lewis asks intently. In the back there are voices and rustling sounds.
He should hang up and keep this to himself, only for George and him to know what he did. But his alpha settles at the care from his pack alpha. He yearns for the comfort and guidance of someone that knows how to be a good alpha.
“My driver’s room,” He gulps out. The sobs have quieted down a bit but there are still relentless tears streaming from his eyes. He wonders if George is still standing out there, waiting for him to come out and the thought is horrible and good at the same time. That George would wait for him – always. Always Alex’. His beta. His friends. His- “I kissed George and I wanted- I almost did something bad I think,” Alex admits with a shame so deep that he doesn’t think it’ll ever stop.
“Stay there, I’ll come to you,” Lewis says firmly and then hangs up.
He only leaves Alex to wallow in his self-pity and shame for a few minutes. Before he even knocks, Alex can smell him through the door, the soft dew of a spring morning. Soothing and comforting.
He sometimes wonders what Lewis smelled like before he mated with Nico, if he smelled like a storm or the earth or the sap dripping from a tree.
“Alex?” Lewis asks gently when Alex lets him inside, only scooting away from the door until Lewis is in, then pressing it shut again with his body.
He buries his face in his hands and groans, “Lewis…” The tears have stopped but he’s still breathing heavily.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Lewis rumbles, sitting down next to him and knocking their legs together. “Breath in, breath out. Just do that, try not to think about anything.” And he does a few exaggerated breathes that Alex follows.
He's read online, how much people with a second gender profit from meditation and breathing exercises. There are a few omega specialist out there that swear they can postpone heats that way, push them from every three months to only once a year.
Alex had thought it was a bunch of hogwash but now that he’s sitting with Lewis, just breathing and trying not to think about anything else, it does help. His thoughts stop circling and his alpha settles down, ready to let Lewis take the lead.
George is not in danger, especially as long as Alex keeps away from him.
“Are you ready to tell me what happened?” Lewis asks gently, when Alex can finally lift his head again. His eyes are dark and deeply filled with worry.
Alex tells him everything then, as short as he can. Lewis just listens until Alex finishes, “-And then I kissed him.”
“Did you do that or was it your alpha taking over?” Lewis asks, not in worry, it sounds more like interest or curiosity.
Alex tries to remember how it felt, if it was him or his alpha but he settles on, “Both- it felt like a lot. Like, shortly before my rut when there was me and then- the alpha, separately… I- He wanted to drag George into my den and never let him out again.” He hides his face again, embarrassed at the admission.
He's made a den in his apartment in Monaco in his small office. It just fits his bed and a small dresser but it’s nice and cozy, just a small window and one door. He’s piled it up with scented items the pack send him, each one arrived labelled and with a welcome note from the pack member.
If he had an omega, they would be in charge of making the bed into a cozy nest but since he doesn’t, he had to do it himself. It’s clumsy but right now, Alex wishes he could go there now so badly.
Lewis takes his time before he asks slowly, “Were you and George- before-” But he stops, both of them aware of the word that would go there.
Alex can’t help but go beet red again.
He somehow expected Carlos to have told Lewis about what Alex had said during his rut, how he begged for George instead of Carlos but apparently, he didn’t. That discretion is only a small mercy because now he himself has to admit, “Ugh, yeah, actually quite often… For a few years now.” And because he’s already embarrassed himself, he goes all in and tells Lewis, “During my rut, Carlos said I said his name, often… We’re not- together or anything just-”
He doesn’t need to finish and Lewis seems to understand anyway. He makes an understanding noise actually, rumbling deep in his chest, “That explains it.” Alex finally dares looking at his pack alpha, really look, and Lewis shoots him an encouraging smile. “Your alpha must still be a little confused. He has those feelings attached to George – like a light imprinting. That’ll get better if you stay away from him for a bit, give that imprinting time to fade.”
That does hit Alex like a blow.
Both Carlos and Lewis telling him to stay away? That’s terrifying because it must be the truth. How can he explain it to George without sounding crazy? How can he explain that his alpha has staked some biologically impossible claim over him? A claim that can’t be fulfilled. They can’t bond and society frons upon mixed second gender relationships.
And George has never liked alphas. Quite the contrary, they used to make fun of them: the posturing, the possessiveness and the loss of control. It would disgust him, surely. Like it did today.
George never wanted to be owned by anyone, he made that very clear when they started sleeping together. Him trusting Alex to be the first man he sleeps with was just that, trust, nothing more – not a ‘loss’ of virginity, not a loss of anything.
Alex wasn’t taking something from him and George wasn’t giving him anything. No attachments, no ownership.
Lewis seems to misread the uncomfortable expression on Alex’ face and puts a comforting hand on his knee. He looks deep into his eyes and emphasizes, “And what you did, it’s not illegal. Not here at least… As long as George was fine with it, it’s okay. Alphas and betas can be together if they like.”
“I’m not sure he was fine with it… I kissed him and then I just- booked it. He wanted to talk; he waited for me but then it all went sideways before I could stop it. I don’t think he liked me kissing him much,” Alex admits and a new, disgusting feeling rolls inside of his stomach.
He's never done anything with someone who he wasn’t 100% sure was consenting. All of his hook ups and relationships were all always fully enthusiastic.
The only thing that reminds him of this, was when he first kissed a girl at thirteen. Emma was nice and blond and had a gap between her front teeth. They kissed on a school trip after ‘dating’ for a week, somewhere in London city central.
It was quick and painless but afterwards Emma too had this unsure look on her face like George just had had. Like they weren’t sure how to feel about Alex kissing him. If that was right or not. If it was a good feeling.
If this is how it will be – if being an alpha means acting like a dumb and inconsiderate teenager but now in a grown up’s body, Alex doesn’t want it. He can’t stomach the thought of doing that to George again. Putting both of them into this impossible position.
It might be legal for an alpha and a beta to be together but Alex was a beta long enough, pined silently after pretty omegas and strong alphas alike, to know how society views it. With disdain. With disgust. With prejudice.
“You have to keep me in check somehow. If I hurt him or- I couldn’t live with myself. You have to keep me in check,” He demands firmly. If he can’t do it on his own, Lewis and Carlos and the pack will need to help him be good.
Lewis gives him a sympathetic look, head leaning to the side. “I’m your pack alpha, not a prison guard. You have to get a grip on this yourself,” He says. “But there are ways I can help and you’re definitely not doomed to hurt him or anything. Well get you all sorted out. I know a few great meditation techniques.”
And Alex hopes – prays that he is right.
From there on out, Lewis and him call every day to do a meditation together.
First, it’s these short, five-minute mindfulness exercises but soon enough they go deep into the connection – or rather the disconnection – Alex feels with his alpha. It feels strange to acknowledge that thing inside of him but there’s also something freeing in it.
It’s not quite the control Alex craves but it’s close enough.
Notes:
Up next: To miss you is to save you
(Btw how have we been liking these next chapter titel teasers? I've not been feeling writing chapter summaries for ths fic and I think this is a nice teaser instead...)
Chapter Text
GEORGE
George stood outside of the Williams hospitality for only a moment. When the door slams shut behind Alex, he books it out of the paddock and to his car. On the drive back he tries not to think about Alex’ lips on his or what this could mean.
He just- doesn’t understand him anymore.
First, he was talking about it being impossible now for them to be together – something George totally agrees with – and then suddenly he was kissing him.
And it wasn’t just any kiss. It was breathless and hard and perfect and true. It felt like Alex needed it, like he needed George more than the air inside of his lungs. And George was suddenly willing to give him anything he wanted again. In the blink of an eye.
But then Alex had run away.
At a red light, George bangs his fist onto the steering wheel of his rental car. He just doesn’t understand and this type of frustration he’s never been good with. What’s going on in Alex’ head? Does he miss George too or was this just a goodbye-kiss? Was he just trying to make him shut up?
He reaches for his phone in the console, checks his and Alex’ chat but no messages go through still and neither do calls.
The thought spiral continues from there.
It doesn’t help that just a week later in Bahrain, Alex ignores him again. This time, George leaves him be though and doesn’t even look at him once – Japan has taught him that lesson. Best to leave Alex alone lest he have another stuttering word-vomit about how Carlos helped him through his rut…
George throws himself back into the season and embraces the new found free time slots he suddenly has that used to be filled by Alex. He volunteers for every media thing they have to do, flies back to the factory between Bahrain and Saudi Arabia and does more sessions on the simulator than any other driver.
Good results follow, another podium and another p5. He’s p4 in the overall driver standings after Saudi Arabia – above Charles and Lewis and Kimi – and that feels better than it probably should. Like vindication.
The rest of the betas make a sorry bunch though, even when Fernando invites them out the evening after Saudi Arabia to one of the most expensive restaurants in town. Yuki is the most excited and agreeable one out of all of them but George guesses that’s more due to the exotic and high-quality food than the progression of his own season.
Jack keeps pulling this kicked-puppy face and more than once, George swears he sees Fernando’s eyes gloss over, clearly in memory of times with wins instead of DNFs.
“The Red Bull is much quicker than the RB though, so I can’t complain,” Yuki finishes a long explanation about his relatively recent seat swap.
This rouses Fernando from his solemn state and a wide grin splits his face as he gives Yuki’s shoulder a friendly slap, “Good man, taking a seat from an omega. It was supposed to be yours anyway.”
George can’t help but cringe a little under the obvious glee this validation brings Yuki. But then again, he probably wouldn’t be different in Yuki’s stead. He deserved that seat – second gender or not.
“Their payback will be Franco taking my seat,” Jack bites out, the half-eaten steak in front of him looking sad and abandoned.
George stays silent, finishing his own food as both Yuki and Fernando try to prop Jack up verbally. He knows it’s no use, Franco will be in that seat soon enough. George likes Jack well enough but no sympathy or good words will change that.
“You cannot think that way, then he’s already won,” Yuki says encouragingly.
“Sí,” Fernando agrees. “I know he walks around that alpine garage like he owns it but he does not. Just because they feel like they own the world, does not mean they do.”
“And that is the thing,” Yuki buds back in, taking another sip from his third glass of wine. “Omegas just are like that. Liam was too, always stinking up the place so we could barely breathe.”
George almost adds something then, wants to say that it’s unfair but the truth is, Liam has a particular thick smell. Apples, say the tabloids but to a beta it doesn’t matter. The smell is just stuffy and unpleasant – like the air itself has turned stagnant.
“Liam is bad either way,” Fernando waves off. “Bad driver, will not make it long. Doesn’t deserve to drive how he does, blind, inconsiderate.”
There’s agreeing around the table and George nods as well, just to agree.
When he gets home after the grand prix, his shoulders feel inexplicably heavy. The flight to Monaco was annoying, sure, but now that he’s sitting in his own home again, the emotional weight presses down on him too.
The walls feel like they are closing in and around every corner, there’s a memory including Alex jumping at him. The kitchen, the living room, his bedroom of course – even his fucking storage closet has an Alex-memory attached.
“Come on, Georgie, somewhere around here you have to have a broom…”
“I swear I don’t. At least I didn’t buy one. I only have a vacuum.”
“What’s this then?”
Alex was so different then, it’s all he can think about.
When George can’t sleep at 3am, he finally jumps. He opens is laptop and an incognito tap.
There are so many questions swirling inside of his head, so many things he wants answers to that no one gives him, that the first thing he searches for is ‘alpha beta sex’. Predictably, the search results are all porn and George has to circle back, correcting himself to ‘alpha beta relationship’. This yields more helpful results.
First is a government page on the legalization of second gender and non-second gender marriages from 2018. George skims it but most of the information he’d already read in news-headlines back then.
Betas are free to marry any alpha or omega, as long as it’s a decision from their own free will and without intimidation of their partner, family or other people. It also refers back to the legalization of different second-gender relationships back in 1989, including the legalization of omega/omega and alpha/alpha relationships.
Below that is a Wikipedia site regarding the similar topic of ‘Relationships between second-gender people and betas’ with about one-hundred sections.
George skims most of it. Now that the dam has broken, his brain soaks all of it in, willing himself to find a solution or explanation – anything.
He only halts at the section called ‘Physical limitations to intercourse’ where the article describes the necessary steps for alpha/beta sex and advises for betas – no matter their gender – to train themselves before attempting to insert an alpha’s knot.
This section he reads rather intently and despite it being actually mortifying, his dick hardens a little in interest. Even through the clinical language – and if he’s honest, he always had a bit of a competence kink – he can envision Alex and himself-
His brain stops when the section veers off into the warnings about attempting to spend a rut with an alpha untrained – the possible injuries… He skips that part and then exits Wikipedia all together.
He goes through a few more or less informational website before landing on a reddit discussion titled ‘My family is threatening to disown me (a, f, 25) if I stay with my gf (b, f, 24)’:
OP:
Hey so, as the title says: My family, especially my dad (a, 52), are threatening that they’ll disown me if I don’t separate from my beta girlfriend of two years. They found out we’re together because my dam (53) went through my phone and found our messages and a few pictures.
I’m furious that they violated my privacy and would love to cut contact with them but I sadly need their financial support to finish my uni next year. On my own I would have to quit and I’m so close to finishing my masters. What should I do?
My gf wants me to do what’s right for me and my future but I love her so much and can’t even imagine having ruts without her… Any advice?
George can feel his heart squeezing immediately in sympathy. He never thought about the other side of the coin, how difficult it could be for someone with a second gender… Gripped, he reads on.
User696969:
Hot, can you send me a vid?
OP replied:
Ew, blocked
BinaryBook3:
That’s a difficult situation… I (b, m, 42) had a similar one almost ten years agon when I split from my bf (a, 30 at the time) and to this day I have mixed feelings about it. He wanted to have kids and since I’m a male beta, we obviously couldn’t have them together.
It took a real toll on us, combined with the constant judgement of his and my family. We had supportive friends but since we’re both from traditional families, it was just too difficult to have to explain and defend yourself on all sides.
If it helps: I’m now happily married with another beta:) Life goes on
OP replied:
Uff… Honestly, that’s not what I wanted to hear but maybe what I need to hear…
It's really this constant exhaustion from having to explain and defend yourself. My dads are acting like I’m mad for even accepting a beta when they only know a/o relationships. They don’t know how well we work as partners and how many great memories we already share.
ZeroJudgementAlpha:
From my experience, if it’s true love, it’s worth the fight. My gf (b, 52) and I (a, 50) have been together for over twenty years now and every day I’m grateful to wake up next to her.
BinaryBook3 replied:
No shade, but I think as a m/f couple you have it a bit easier. You can still have pups and society gives you much more of a break…
ZeroJudgementAlpha replied:
That definitely true.
Still, since I am both the alpha and the man, her family held a lot of prejudice. The old ‘bad alpha seduces naïve beta’ spiel was hurled at me time and time again. I was made to feel like a predator for being with another consenting adult. Yes, she is a beta but she knew what she was getting into and wanted that.
Not sure this applies to w/w as well but it’s something to consider. Society might view you as a predator and that’s also a burden to carry
OP replied:
Jesus, even more things to think about… Luckily this dynamic hasn’t affected me yet but then again, only my family knows now and I have no clue how hers will react.
Thank you both for answering! I’ll update when we made a decision…
After that, the threat lies abandoned and has been for over two years.
George wants to know how the original poster decided. Already there are so many new perspectives and things to consider… It would be great to know how it worked out for them. If they tried and failed. If they didn’t even try. If it worked out in the end…
George knows what he hoped to read and it’s terrifying to stare it in the face.
He wanted to read how easy and normal it would be, for a beta to be with an alpha. That yes, there were judgemental pricks out there and people that gave them a hard time but that overall, it was all worth it. Then he could have simply forwarded that to Alex to say, ‘See, we can keep going like we used to. It’s all okay.’
Instead, he found political and social discrimination, special preparations for sex and the profound question of: Is this relationship worth all this trouble?
He throws himself back onto his bed and sinks into the pillows.
His bedside clock reads 4:12.
In less than four hours he has a workout scheduled with Aleix who’s definitely going to kill him if he doesn’t sleep right now. But his body and mind feel restless, like after having gained all this information he should do something with it too. For a moment he considers getting up to start journaling about it but the moment he envisions himself writing ‘training before knotting’ with his nice black fountain pen, he disregards the idea.
George pulls his laptop back up, originally to close it and finally try to sleep when there’s just this idea- it wouldn’t hurt- no one would even have to know-
He goes back to his original search.
He’s never much been into watching porn as an adult, though he of course had as a horny and desperate teenager… And of course, as well during that awkward phase a few years ago where he’d realized that yes, maybe he’d liked to be fucked by another man actually.
Back then he’d just wanted to look at what it could be like, see if the images alone would work for him and this feels very similar.
The website he finds has specific categories for each first gender and second gender combination and George can appreciate that level of organisation. He selects the male beta and male alpha section, a weird sense of excitement as her reads that there are over a thousand videos. So it’s not crazy or rare. It’s normal. It’s common – many people like to look at that stuff.
The first few pages of videos leave him feeling disappointed though – almost a bit disgusted.
Because a lot of the videos have a rather violent setup. ‘Bratty beta whore made to take it’, ‘Slut for alphas learns his lesson’ and ‘Alphas dominate whiny beta boy’ are just the first few search results, followed by endless similar videos. George clicks on one – ‘Beta and alpha discover each other’s body’ – which he guessed wouldn’t be all that bad but even here, the beta whines and moans more like he’s in pain than enjoying it. In none of the videos does the beta ever top the alpha.
It takes George a bit but he finally stumbles over a video of just a beta that’s fucking himself with a surprisingly realistic looking knotting dildo. The thing is big but not dramatically so and the beta at least seems to enjoy himself, even when he pushes the thick knot in at the end. He comes and so does George, eye curiously staying on where the knot is sitting deep inside of the beta ass, stretching the skin around his rim.
What would that feel like? Does it feel much different than the normal girth of a dick? Does it feel better maybe, because it’s so- close? So intimate? So full?
The next thing George does only takes him five minutes and he doesn’t even have to get up to get his credit card. He buys the smallest beginner knotting toy he can find on a discrete sex toy website. He tells himself that it doesn’t really matter, it’ll arrive before the next grand prix and he can just- look at it. See a reference. That’s all. Research.
Then he closes his laptop and does in fact sleep.
While his initial google search quenched some of George’s want for answers, he still finds himself looking up more and more stuff in between Saudi Arabia and Miami. He looks up the changes someone undergoes during presentation and then specifically for people presenting late.
On this subject though, the internet research is less satisfactory.
Late presentations are rare and ones over the age of 25 even more so. There are hypotheses drawn about increased hormonal pressure and shifts but it’s too complicated for George to really get into.
From what he gathers though, this does not at all explain Alex strange behaviour and the way he’s all of the sudden avoiding George. There were sections about alpha/alpha and omega/omega territorialism when entering new packs but that of course does not apply to him. No, there is no biological reason other than the always mentioned ‘stable environment after a presentation’ but George would always argue that he is the epitome of stable…
George carries these thoughts and worries around the world with him.
When they set up in Miami, Aleix warns him to not underestimate the time zone difference. He's of course noticed that there’s something going on with George but as a principle, Aleix isn’t a prier so when George swears that he’ll leave the hospitality any minute on the Wednesday before, he believes him and leaves to go to the hotel.
George lets himself sink into the data, the best breaking points and the most idea racing lines. Miami is usually kind to him but that doesn’t mean much in Formula 1… He's so engrossed that he only realises that Toto has sat down next to him when their knees get knocked together and the familiar heavy scent surrounds him.
“George,” Toto rumbles, fatherly but also reproachful “You’re worrying again – you never stay this late unless you’re worrying. And don’t tell me it’s about the car… You’ve been moping around for weeks. What’s going on?”
George looks away for a moment and bites his tongue.
He could make up another lie – a family issues or problems with another friend. He feels downright pathetic to admit that this issue with Alex is still affecting. Over a month since he first spoke to Toto about it and still, it’s bothering him.
Toto leans forward on the table and encourages with fatherly concern, “Come on, George, spit it out.”
“It’s Alex,” George bites back, unwillingly. Toto’s posture drops immediately and George doesn’t need to look up to see the look of compassion in his eyes. “Since he presented, it’s just not the same anymore… During his rut he didn’t answer me – which is totally fine, I get it – but then afterwards he’s just been- avoiding me. All the time. He’s not answering my texts and just hanging out with the pack, going where I can’t be in the pack room – It hurts. It feels like I’m losing my best friend and I can’t do anything about it.”
When he’s done explaining he finally dares to look up and is met with a look between compassion and fatherly frustration. “I’ve never been in your exact situation – I can only say what my experience was when I presented?” Toto offers.
“Please don’t go into detail,” George asks, cringing.
“I won’t,” Toto chuckles, opening the palm of his hand as he offers his explanation, “I presented at 19 when I was already working at a company. I had made friends there, betas mostly, and I was close with them.” Toto fixes George with his hooded eyes and George realises then, that his mouth had been hanging open in rapt attention. He quickly closes it.
While he of course knows Toto’s life’s story – he’s read his Wikipedia page around 500 times – this perspective is very new.
“But a presentation changes everything. It changes your instincts, your preferences, the way you go through life… After I presented, I kept to my family and the company pack for a while. Not because I didn’t like my beta friends but because the packs could give me safety and stability. It’s by biological design to be comforted by other people with a second gender,” Toto explains slowly but it stings anyway. George can’t comfort Alex anymore. It’s against their nature. Toto, sensing his distress, goes on with a slight smile, “And after a few months, I got those friends back. John still calls me every Sunday to wish me luck with the race and I’m the godfather to his youngest daughter.”
While that does make George feel a little better, he still gawks, “A few months? How many?”
Toto waves off slightly, “A few months, it’s different for everyone… And after that you might just be able to pick back up from where you started. Alex and you have been friends for such a long time – his presentation will not change the history you have.”
George wants to ask more, deeper questions but settles on, “Is it really that different- to before?”
“Yes,” Toto smiles a little woefully. “Being an alpha changes the way you navigate the world and also the way the world treats you. I affects all aspects of your life.”
A frustration that George has grown accustomed to by now takes hold again and he huffs out, “I can tell… They’re all hailing him as the next big thing which is fine – I always believed he’s great – but now the media just does it because he’s an alpha, not because he’s good.”
“It is unfair, very unfair, but you’re not one to get lost in this, George,” Toto says surely and it almost convinces George as well. “Pick yourself back up. Show them what you’re made off. Alex will come back soon but this great of an opportunity to win the WDC might not.”
George sighs and closes his laptop. He knows Toto is right – he always is… He needs to pull himself together and stop worrying. Alex evidently doesn’t worry about him as much as he does – so why should he? He deserves better than that. Screw everyone that’s doubting or disregarding him because he’s a beta.
He'll prove them wrong.
ALEX
The next few grand prix are a pain in the ass. Alex struggles to adjust to the way his body feels and produce the same results with it as he did when he was a beta. He manages often enough as to please the team and the media but deep down he just doesn’t feel right.
Every part of his job that didn’t used to irritate him suddenly does. The noises of the paddock, the over-amount of scents, the fans getting too close to him when taking a photo and of course the grating distance to George that just seems to increase with every race.
Alex can tell that after the disaster in Japan: George is done with him. Done. He doesn’t look at him anymore and from what he hears, he doesn’t seem to miss him all that much either. Kimi mentions often how busy George is in Brackley and that he sees him around chatting with everyone and getting lunch with his engineers. He even once saw him in a coffee shop with a pretty woman but didn’t dare approach him to say hi.
Alex doesn’t want to think about that mystery woman – who she was. George has a more than a few female friends and he just tells himself she was one of them. Has to, to even bare the thought.
And in the moments where everything is almost too much, his only saving grace is the pack.
During the Asian and Middle Eastern legs there is no dedicated pack room where they feel comfortable in so more often than not during the race weekends, one of them opens their hotel room for them to hang out in. Carlos and Lewis take the brunt of the hosting but a few times they’re also in Charles’, Lando’s or Max’ rooms.
Lewis teaches Alex his inner alpha mediations at these occasions too and often one of the younger alphas like Oscar or Ollie join in. This time it’s Pierre instead of Ollie though, who sits next to Alex after their meditations are finished.
While Alex does feel like the meditation help, the second Lewis ends them his first thoughts always snap back to George – like his inner alpha reminds them both who the reason for all of this is. George, George, George. His beta.
While Lewis hands the three of them a water from the fridge, Alex carefully asks, “You two already knew your omegas before you presented, right?” He asks towards Lewis and Oscar. “How- how did you learn to deal with it after you presented?”
While Pierre takes deep gulping swallow of his water, Oscar shrugs, “It was difficult for sure. I presented during the summer holidays after our graduation. She had already presented a year ago and it just- riled me up so much. To this day I don’t even get why – I was the only one ever spending heats with her.” Oscar scrunches up his face in disgust, “My alpha got so possessive. I didn’t let her out of my den for a week; it was so embarrassing… At least I still let Mark inside – he was the only alpha I let close. He brought us food and stuff,” His ears go pink as he says it, causing both Lewis and Pierre to snigger. “But a meditation technique similar to this helped. And keeping her close by and in my family pack until I could relax a bit more without her. Nowadays it’s not an issue anymore.”
While Oscar seems almost a bit ashamed as he tells the story, Alex can’t help but think that it actually sounds quite nice… Oscar had already had a family pack, more people with a second gender that he could trust. People that understood his issues and accommodated him until his alpha had relaxed a bit. He wished he had that now. Sure, both Carlos and Lewis – the whole pack really – did as much as they could but it’s not the same as a live-in pack would be, Alex guesses.
He tries to imagine it, his beta siblings and mother nesting and taking care of him and George- but he can’t. It’s too far off from reality.
Lewis sits down next to Alex, giving his shoulder a squeeze as he sitting crisscross. Then he explains, “With Nico and me honestly nothing was easy. We presented in the same month, similar to Ollie and Kimi and it was-” Lewis pauses, his face betraying no emotions but there’s a sharpness to his scent, like approaching dark clouds. “Difficult. He was in F1 already and I wasn’t. We had to spent a lot of time apart, even though we were kind of imprinted on each other already. Then then whole rivalry debacle happened-“ He hisses through his teeth. “It wasn’t easy. It was love and hate until just a few years ago when we mated and it all got a lot easier – both of our possessiveness too. It eases something in all of us, no matter alpha or omega, to have a mate carry our bite.” Pierre and Oscar both nod at that.
Alex remembers all the headlines about Lewis’ and Nico’s mating almost five years ago. Nico had been long gone from the sport but with Lewis winning his sixth title, the news was just as fresh as if Nico were still actively driving. It had been a novelty, two formula 1 drivers mating. It had never happened before and not since. Nico and Lewis, Lewis and Nico – still a one of a kind pair.
Alex brain flashes an image of George’s neck, bite high on his throat for everyone to see… It’s bad practice these days – usually mating bites are giving in more private places – but his alpha is elated with the thought. His teeth on George’s skin. Forever.
“So possessiveness isn’t just an alpha’s trait?” Alex asks curiously, playing around with the cap of his water bottle. The sharp edges cut into his skin but there’s relief in feeling something grounding.
“No, definitely not,” Pierre says quickly, shaking his head. “My girlfriend is a bit younger and presented much later than I did. She had such a hard time letting me leave the nest during the first few weeks. Her omega was crazy jealous and protective – of everyone.”
Alex has trouble imagining that. The few times he’s met Pierre’s omega, she’s always been kind and very open and communicative. Strange, what a presentation can do to people…
“I don’t even have a mate and I feels like I’ll go crazy sometimes,” Alex admits, unable to ignore the way Lewis glances at him from the side. They didn’t talk much more about George in the last few weeks but under the surface, Alex had always sensed that Lewis knew that he was still thinking about him – day and night.
“It’ll get better,” Oscar rumbles, smiling at him. Even though they are five years apart in age, Alex has always admired Oscar’s calm presence and he does even more now that they are packmates.
He takes a deep breath in and centres himself. Between Oscar’s and Lewis’ deep earth smells and Pierre’s herbal scent, the calmness of the meditation comes back to him. “I think I’m still a bit hung up on someone from before,” He finally admits, unable to keep the pain from his voice. “They’re a beta and made it very clear that they don’t want anything to do with me anymore, now that I’m- like this. But still, I miss them.”
“That’s totally normal,” Oscar assures him with a soft voice. “Hormones are strange like that. Sometimes your alpha wants things you know you can’t have… But it’ll pass.”
“Yeah,” Lewis agrees, gently nudging his shoulder into Alex’, prompting him to look up into his warm, smiling face. “And if meditation and distance doesn’t work, there’s always hormone therapy that you can give a try.”
“And also,” Pierre chimes in. “Fuck them for not loving you the way you are. You deserve better than that.”
Alex can’t do anything else but helplessly laugh at that, a tear separating from his lashes and running down his cheeks. Oscar and Pierre don’t know it’s George, don’t know how fucking hard it is see him every week and not be able to speak with him – for both of their sakes. But there’s something freeing in having shared at least a bit of the truth and also a bit of the burden.
The evening continues much lighter from there.
At some point, someone orders them chicken wings from room service and Lewis mixes virgin cocktails while wilder and wilder stories are being unpacked.
Suddenly, Alex doesn’t feel as ashamed about his first rut when Lewis describes how he spent his alone in a London hotel. Or how Pierre got a surprise rut during a 12h flight with no suppressants left. Or how Oscar once had to drive an F2 race in pre-rut and soaked his whole suit with pre-cum.
After that evening, Alex is eased into a period of relative peace. There’s a longer gap between grand prix, meaning reprieve from George’s constant presence and instead relaxation and support from his pack mates.
It suddenly doesn’t feel like a struggle to stay good and keep his thoughts off George. Yes, any and all strange omegas that get too close to him still make Alex cringe, but that can change with time surely.
But as with most good thinks, a phone call from his mother ends them.
It's really just one of her normal calls when she feels chatty during the week. Alex is in the car, driving home from a padel date with Lando, Max and Oscar and he can’t really ignore the call again like the one he got from her this morning.
“Hi mum, I’m driving,” He answers, hoping she’ll keep it short.
“Hi baby, how are you doing? The weather has been so bad in London – I bet in Monaco it’s much better-” And from there she launches into one of her monologues. It lasts so long that by the time she finally asks him a question again, he’s already in the lift up to his apartment, “Oh and tell me, how’s Georgie doing?”
Alex’ brain stutters at that and he almost drops his key as he fumbles with the lock on his door. “Why are you asking?”
“You haven’t talked much about him and since you presented-” She leaves an uncharacteristically long pause, her voice serious. “He looks a bit sad I think, whenever I see him on TV…”
For all that his mum is a talker and loves a bit of shallow gossip, she really has the ‘concerned mother’ down just as well.
“He’s doing fine, I’m sure,” Alex tries to make her back off between gritted teeth. Inexplicably, his jaw hurts.
“How would you know?” She asks, not prickly but curious. “Are you two talking again?”
“I told you it’s complicated,” Alex tries to defend himself. He told her as much as he could over his birthday that he spent at home without downright admitting that George and him were having sex every week. And that his alpha still is a little confused and more than a little obsessed with him… “But his season is going very well and he has plenty other friends.”
His mother makes a frustrated sound on the other end and Alex rolls his eyes as she starts again, “Sure and while I’m quite worried for you both, different to him, you have the pack. He has no one there during the race weekends.”
A sudden wave of desperation overcomes Alex.
He wishes he could explain to her how difficult it is to ignore George against all of his feelings and instincts. That he only ever wants George to be happy and that the only way to guarantee that, is if he keeps his distance.
He shudders as he remembers George’s shocked look after he’d kissed him in Japan… That can’t happen ever again.
If the last month has showed him anything, then that George will get over it this once – but there’s no assurance that he will forgive Alex if he does something like that a second time. People have been banned from F1 for less. George has the right to stay away from Alex after he did that.
“I just need more time, mum, okay? Trust me on this please,” He pleads, sounding more sincere than he usually is with her and that stops her in her probing.
They talk about a few more safe topics but the damn has broken.
For the next few days, George is right back in Alex’ mind like he’d never left.
Even the meditations and breathing exercises do little to distract Alex’ alpha. Even as the whole F1 circus touches down in Miami for the next grand prix weekend – Alex is only interested in one thing.
He gets so desperate that on Wednesday evening, he pulls the emergency line. He locks himself in his hotel room – to the worried acceptance of Patrick – and pulls out the last sweater he still has from George. Any smell is long gone but the thought that it was George’s is enough to make Alex groan.
He throws himself into sheets and finally opens the floodgates to the thoughts he’s been keeping locked up for too long – ever since his maturing rut. If he just does this once-
His teeth burry into the fabric of the sweater as he remembers the last time George and him slept together. It was before pre-season testing had started with plenty of time so George could recover. They didn’t need to hold back and so they didn’t.
Alex had fucked George hard and deep where he’d been propped up on his dresser. The sweat from George’s hand had left damp marks against the wood and he had made these high, keening moans of total pleasure. Lost in it.
Alex had gone insane with it, snaking a hand around George’s thick neck, locking down on his throat-
Alex rips his eyes open in shock at his own thoughts. This is exactly the- the violence and indulgence he feared from his alpha. Maybe his alpha had already come through back then and made him crave the sex marathon they had had. Maybe Alex had already tainted them – unknowingly but still.
No, no if he’s going to give in like this, he’ll contain himself to the older- the better memories. Those where he’d been especially gentle and loving to George. Had held and teased him like he deserved.
Alex settles back down, heart still racing but when he closes his eyes again, nicer memories start inside of his head.
He can’t help but finally sneak a hand down his pants where his dick is already stiff, pressing against the zipper of his jeans painfully but it also feels good – like he deserves the pain for the pleasure he’s about to feel. Like he can somehow pre-pay for the sin of thinking about his beta best friend while he’s jerking of…
But he can’t help it, the pictures aid his thoughts. He thinks about George and how he slept with him for the first time.
They’d talked about it quite a few times before they did it, to ease all of George’s anxieties about it. Still, on the evening when it happened – in George’s first apartment in London – Alex took extra time. He wined and dined George, massaged him and then took him to bed.
Alex can remember very well the hours of kissing and petting, grinding against each other so hard he got a hip cramp.
He can’t bear it any longer and finally opens his pants to take put his cock. It feels different now too, besides the obvious knot at the base that’s waiting to inflate. His dick is hotter somehow, maybe a centimetre bigger and also more girthy. He always thought that it was exaggeration or something, when people said alphas were bigger but he can see first-hand now that it’s true.
Alex wraps a hand around himself and slowly starts stroking. It feels so fucking good and for a moment, Alex doesn’t get how he could live without this for so long. He should have just spend all his days jerking off. Why did he punish himself by not doing it?
Alex’ mind flashes with how he took his time opening George up that first time, adding fingers doused in lube until George’s eyes were leaking tears from the pleasure. And then he pushed inside. He’ll never forget the gruelling tightness of him as Alex was the first person to ever be inside of him.
Sure, George had slept with women before but this, this was only between them. Between him and Alex. Them. His.
Alex speeds up his fist around his cock, quicker than he had fucked George back then. He’d done it all low and slow that night, turned George from the tight coil into a puddle of moans and pleasure. He’d been on his back so Alex could watch him fall apart bit by bit in the most delicious way possible. Up-close – personal. Like it mattered.
Alex gasps into the silence of his hotel room and buries his face back into the fabric. If he thinks about it hard enough, he can imagine that he still smells George.
He reaches down with his free hand to wrap it around the slowly inflating knot. God, he wishes he could knot George- No. No, only good thoughts. Only beta friendly thoughts. Only gentle thoughts.
Alex wills his brain to remember how George looked that first time when he came. Confused almost, completely surprised by the untouched orgasm Alex teased out of him. He’d been almost silent except for a shaky ‘Oh God, Alex’ and that did it for Alex too.
They’d both come so hard it took them endless minutes to catch their breathes. During the come down Alex had pulled out slowly and watched his cum drip out of George with great attention while massaging George’s shaking thighs.
That’s what does it for him now – the memory of George’s skin covered in Alex, Alex, Alex…
His knot pops into his fist and even though he tries to clamp down on it hard from all sides, it doesn’t feel as satisfying as it did when he came inside of Carlos during his rut. Still, an orgasm is an orgasm and the drawn-out length from the orgasms he experiences now knocks the breath from his lungs for a good few minutes.
By the time he comes back to himself his knot has gone down and there’s just a ridiculous amount of cum on his stomach and sadly also the sheets.
On shaky legs he gets the spare set and exchanges it with the soiled ones.
The floor is cold under his feet, sending shivers down his spine. After re-making the bed, Alex goes into the shower because he feels like he needs to stay busy but, unbidden, the craving to cuddle with George hits him. Pull their bodies together. Let their skin touch. And the spiral that follows has nothing to do with lust at all.
Because he misses everything about George. Everything. His laugh, his big eyes, his endless rants about driving, the good opinion he has about everyone he loves and on the flip side, the gossip he can pull from thin air about the people he doesn’t like. How chatty he is. How honest. How hard he loves. The way his fingers gently flex when he’s peacefully asleep.
“Shit,” Alex swears quietly, head falling forward to meet the heated tiles of the shower.
He's in love with him.
It’s not just that his alpha is obsessed with or even imprinted on him – Alex loves him. Has for a while probably but lulled into the familiar rhythm of their routine, he hadn’t noticed.
The realization almost burns in his chest like a physical pain. Like someone was taking a torch to his chest. Blinded by tears and the water, Alex quickly turns the dial hotter, no matter how much it makes his skin ache.
What can he do now? Meditating and hormone therapy can only do so much – how long will it take him to fall out of love with George? Years probably. Maybe never.
He'd been so blind… He’d thrown all of his time with George away, wasted too much of it by ignoring that really, there was no other person that he could imagine spending his life with. Even with how close they were, Alex had taken it for granted. He should have told George every day that he loved him. That he deserved the world. But instead, he’d fucked around, literally, and wasted the precious time he had with him.
Tears of frustration join the scolding cascading of the water and now Alex doesn’t just shake from the temperature anymore.
All of this, the past years really, just feel like one frustrating misstep from him.
Whatever he touches, he ruins. If it weren’t for the pack – Lewis and Carlos especially – he’d probably already be in a mental hospital behind lock and key… Deservedly so. He’s dangerous and wrong and lost in every way.
After a few more minutes of self-hatred, Alex can finally force himself to get out of the shower. He dries himself off perfunctory and puts some fresh clothes on, then texts the pack group chat to see if anyone is meeting tonight.
It's doesn’t take more than five minutes for Carlos and Lando to invite him to come over.
When Carlos opens the door to his room, it’s obvious that he can smell Alex’ distress and in no time, Alex is carefully tugged into the nest and the gentle rumbling of the two other alphas lulls him to sleep.
Notes:
So, we're still going through it and will be for a bit longer:))) Also I hope you enjoyed this more world-buildy chapter and it wasn't too on the nose...
I wanted to say a quick thanks to all of you who gave me kudos and comments and are following this fic<3 I appreciate it so much! There's really nothing as motivating as people enjoying what you're writing.
Up next: 'Distance in the details'
Chapter 5: Distance in the details
Notes:
Quick fyi: I'm changing some results of the season but I'm keeping it mostly close to what really happened. Just so you don't wonder...
Enjoy:)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
GEORGE
George wins the Miami grand prix.
He develops a pole into a win – flawless in his own opinion – but it doesn’t feel as good as he expected it to. He stands on the podium with Max and Kimi, content really, if it weren’t for the nagging feeling that something is slightly off. He checks and re-checks his data and with his engineers but everything is how it’s supposed to be: the car is not underweight, they did all the pre- and post-race procedures and the FIA cleared them in a post-race check-up.
Everything is right.
Except, when George settles down in his hotel room after the race but before the win party Mercedes will host him, he finds his phone devoid of any messages from Alex. No congratulation, not even an impersonal ‘great race’ or anything. Alex hasn’t even liked his Instagram post with the trophy. Everyone else from his family and friends – even Lando – congratulated him.
He tells himself that it’s fine and it’s really fine, until he’s sitting in the booked restaurant – Toto to his right and Kimi to his left – and Toto gets up to hold a speech. He’s usually quick with his speeches but they also always have this- fatherly tone about them that makes George feel queasy.
“-And with the changes happening on the grid, I think it is important to point out what a stable and level-headed driver like George can do for a team,” Toto says with a proud smile, a hand coming to rest on George’s shoulder while the team claps and cheers. On his other side, George can see Kimi squirming around in his periphery.
It obvious what Toto is referring to – the ‘changes’ was Alex’ presentation. One of the longest drivers currently on the grid, now changed, less ‘level-headed’ – presumptuously. Or is it? George had seen the wild look in Alex eyes shortly before he’d kissed him… That- is irrefutable. Alex is changed, no matter how little George likes it.
George tries not to let it show on his face, how much the thought stings. That Alex is changed beyond recognition doesn’t want to enter his head and it feels worse to hear Toto talk about it like a given fact in front of all of Mercedes.
He reaches up to his own face, feels his lips still sticky with champagne but he thinks about Alex. The way he kissed him… How different it felt. Hungrier but at the same time foreign, like kissing a version of Alex that got to keep the Red Bull seat, became champion and learned that he could have the world if he just took it. Another Alex from another timeline almost.
“Stability is key. Constant good results are key. And George has always delivered that for us,” And Toto lifts his champagne glass to toast. The team mirrors him. “To George and another Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula One Team grand prix win.”
George’s skin prickles under Toto’s touch but it’s not from discomfort, instead it’s a sick kind of satisfaction. Toto praising him had always gone down smoothly but now it feels extra good. To have it clear and visible in front of everyone: Toto prefers him over any alpha or omega – over Kimi.
George isn’t delusional, if it were between Lewis and him, he knows he’d be the second choice but that ship has sailed. Now it’s him – he’s Toto’s and the team’s first choice. He too is worth something, even if he has to work for it harder than the others. He’ll get a new contract and a championship. Maybe not this year, but surely soon.
Toto sits down and the chatter around them starts back up again. Toto leaves his hand on George’s shoulder, giving him another squeeze and saying, “Relax, George, this is your evening…” And in between the words he actually spoke, George knows that Toto also mean, ‘Forget about Alex for once. Enjoy yourself.’
Somehow, George manages to pull himself together and have a few very fun hours.
He eats and drinks more than he should, makes a round to talk with all of his engineers and puts Alex and Kimi’s sour face out of his mind.
At midnight, the tables get moved to the side and someone turns up the music. People are dancing, even Toto and if George wouldn’t know better, he’d think that they just won the championship. Everyone is lose and happy and so is he, until Kimi floats up next to him at around 2. He doesn’t say anything, just hovers around awkwardly.
While George is glad that he beat him, he isn’t cruel and he does actually like Kimi, so he starts, “Congrats again on p3, really stellar race!” The words sound weirdly over-cheery and George realizes that he better had stopped drinking an hour ago. Oh well…
“Yeah, good. The team did a great job. I’m very grateful,” Kimi says slowly, like George is just another reporter badgering him with questions.
“Yeah,” George says, in lew of anything better to say as annoyance takes hold of him.
Kimi and him- they just don’t click and it drives him insane… He’d been friendly or downright friends with most of his teammates – why is this with Kimi always so awkward? It can’t be just because he’s George’s first omega teammate, that’s too easy of an out… There must be something he’s overlooking or doing wrong.
“You have school still, right? Some- exams?” George lulls and good God, he sounds like the estranged uncle at a family gathering. Cringing at himself, he turns to look at Kimi but he doesn’t seem to mind. Actually, he looks pretty sloshed too, his hairline sweaty and his eyes vacant.
“Yeah, last exam will be in exactly two weeks. I’m happy for it to be over. The season was very good,” Kimi mumbles and George nods enthusiastically. If he weren’t pretty drunk as well, he’d probably caught Kimi’s mix-up quicker.
But- maybe this is an opportunity too. If both of them are drunk and won’t remember this conversation tomorrow-
“How’s-” George pauses and wets his dry and chapped lips. The phantom of a touch lingers there, has for weeks – he can’t lie to himself any longer. “How’s Alex doing? Really doing, I mean?” He finally asks the question he hadn’t dared to ask anyone else.
Kimi looks over to him then, swaying where he stands and his face splits into a dopey expression. A red blush has been on his cheeks for over an hour now, ever since he’s stood on his first podium of F1. George himself probably doesn’t look much better and for a moment he feels embarrassed at the way both of them must look like. Drivers unable to believe their luck with a good but not championship worthy car – a little too happy, pathetic…
“Alex?” Kimi repeats dumbly. “He’s doing very well.” He stumbles over the v and w, mushing them together between his Italian accent and the alcohol. “The pack is very happy to have him, I think. Everyone smells excited when he’s around. He spends so much time with us all.”
George nods, dumb and silent. Of course they are happy to have Alex, everyone always is. He’s the one driver all of F1 can agree on is good and worthy of all success that he gets.
Kimi leans forward, a bit conspiratorially in the way his eyes shift around but George needs to steady him with a hand on his arm. He whisper-yells anyway over the pumping bass, “I think especially Carlos is very happy, they spend a lot of time with each other and their smells are kind of mixed… He’s our pack omega, you know, so we’re all for it if they decide to-” He trails off and his smile is true, not in a way that says ‘I want to rip your heart out’ but his words still do.
Of course, Alex and Carlos are close, they are teammates after all and that’s what George told himself in the last months but he’s not an idiot.
They are alpha and omega – two halves of a whole. No one would bat an eye at them getting together… And apparently, they are getting there. ‘We’re all for it if they decide to-’ Kimi said and George heard it for what it means. That it’s right. Omega and alpha. Happy. All of them are happy for them to get together and will support their relationship. Their mating.
“Ah,” George makes in acknowledgement, unable to produce anything more sensible. But Kimi seems content with that answer and turns away again to bob his head with the music and sip on his drink. George tries to act normal too but it’s hard.
He thought from the way Alex explained his rut that it was only temporary with Carlos, a necessity more than anything but duty can grow into love, especially when friendship and sex are already there. And Carlos is beautiful, an omega how they are described in books: shiny hair, doe eyes, pouty lips – a strong body that can eventually cradle children.
A cold feeling rushes over George and he can’t disguise his shaking hands as anything else.
Maybe Alex has finally found his taste for omegas – it probably wasn’t a difficult feat with an omega like Carlos. An omega that can give him all the slick, heats and babies he wants.
Not like George with his useless beta body. He used to be good enough to fuck for Alex but now of course that’s different too. He won’t be able to take a knot as easily as an omega. And even if he could, he wouldn’t give Alex the babies he’ll desperately want during his ruts. No womb, no babies.
George subconsciously touches his own stomach – useless. He’s utterly useless. Empty and useless and still, he misses Alex like he’s air.
If he’d just- just speak with him again. Get at least a little morsel of his attention. George would gladly accept Carlos’ and Alex’ relationship – even be the best man at the wedding – if Alex would just look at him again with something more than revulsion and that distraught frenzy. If he’d just touch George again…
Pathetic. George is so pathetic.
The thoughts churn inside of George and afterwards the party isn’t much fun anymore.
He manages to sneak away an hour later, leaving both his trophy and his jacket because Toto is standing too close to the coat check and George doesn’t want to hear another motivational speech. The trophy will go with them to the Mercedes headquarters anyway and he’ll get a replica, maybe…
But maybe he doesn’t want to remember this weekend.
Miami usually treats him well but on the way back to his hotel, sitting in an uber with the aircon blasting, George feels ready to run away. Maybe he should just drive to the airport, flush his phone down a toilet, get on a plane to somewhere and never come back.
Instead, he dutifully gets out at his hotel, tips the driver 100% and goes up to his room.
The hotel is still alive with people – mostly associated with F1 – but luckily no one stops George to talk. He showers and afterwards he doesn’t bother with getting dressed. Instead, he lies on his bed, wet, hot, naked and frustrated.
He was freezing in the car and when getting out of the shower but now he’s started to sweat a bit. He’s not hard or even a bit aroused but there’s this- urge inside of him still, simmering under his slim. To be full of something. Useful. Needed.
So he gets up and rifles through his suitcase. He doesn’t even know why he brought it with him – the shameful online purchase mailed to a discrete box in London… Something no TSA agent should see. But still, the knotting toy lies heavy in George’s hand and he’s glad he brought it.
It’s a small toy for freshy presenting omega, something to tide them over their first heats when their body is still adjusting. It’s a funky bluish-green colour, an ombre effect from knot to tip. George had purposely bought it that way so he could put it off as a joke if anyone ever found it…
He doesn’t think it’s clever anymore. It makes the whole thing just seem even more alien and sick, the way it’s a normal looking, albeit small, cock but with a visibly bulging round mass at the base. Freakish. Wrong.
George stands there over his suitcase, knotting toy in hand, biting his lip for embarrassingly long until he finally takes it, and a bottle of lube, to the bed with him. He stumbles a little with the alcohol still running through his veins but he’s also eager now. Curious to find out what that beta in the porn he watched liked so much…
He should probably drink water, take an aspirin but he can’t remember where he put his traveling pharmacy bag, maybe Aleix even has it… He also didn’t turn the AC on when he came back and by now, with the added steam and heat from his shower, the room feels feverishly hot.
George settles down into the sheets, squirming around to get comfortable on his back. But then he remembers the way that Wikipedia had described how alphas like it, their omegas on their hands and knees for them to mount, and so he changes position. His body aches from the race but he still does it, wants to get ready for the new way Alex will like it. So he can be good then.
He wonders what Alex’ dick looks now, if it’s bigger and if the knot is anyway comparable to this one. He hopes it’s not that much bigger or it’ll be a hassle to fuck regularly. Still, the thoughts about Alex’ body get him going enough so that George is half hard by the time he has his fingers lubed up.
Stretching himself open isn’t foreign. Usually, Alex does it for him but he’d encouraged George to try to do it himself too and he’d always gotten pleasure from it either way.
Today it feels frantic and weird though. The knotting toy lies next to George and anytime he looks at it, its knot taunts him with its girth.
So George plunges finger after finger into himself, between each adding more and more lube until he’s squelching and dripping with it. It runs down between his legs and George tries to imagine that it’s his own slick. That his body is getting ready for Alex. That his hot flush is not from the lack of AC but his body warming to keep Alex comfortable during his rut. Like it’s natural.
George feels dizzy and lightheaded with it all. The alcohol does the rest and suddenly, he’s hard and dripping into the sheets but he doesn’t even understand from what.
He pulls his fingers from his body and reaches blindly for the toy. He’s so wet that he forgoes lubing it up – he just needs it so bad now. Needs Alex. Needs to be full and used.
The hardness of the toy is unrelenting and George moans helplessly as he plunges the first centimetres in. His legs strain, both away and then back at the pressure against his hole. His breath comes out in short huffs and usually, this would be the moment where Alex would tell him to breath and relax.
But George can’t, not without Alex here.
So he pushes on, against the toy going deeper and deeper until, shockingly, the knot meets his rim.
“Fuck,” George groans. He feels full and burning and ready. His mind feels blessedly blank and all is just the nice feeling of finally getting what he’s been craving for a month. “Alex, please Alex,” His lips babble into the sheets.
George lets go of the toy for a moment, flexes his wrist against the oncoming ache but his treacherous body starts pushing the toy out as his walls contract. So George changes hands and slowly starts fucking himself with the dildo, meeting his own thrusts half way.
His hard cock still swings below him and he wishes he’d have a hand free to touch it. But anyway, good omegas can come solely from penetration and George wants to be good. And it does feel good, the slight burn and the hardness inside of him.
He keeps mindlessly fucking himself, feeling himself open like he only ever did for Alex and if he closes his eyes, he can imagine that it’s him and not some lifeless silicone toy.
‘So good, Georgie, you take it so well. So good for me, so tight. Come on, feel good, you can have it… Let me take care of you.’
“Oh Alex,” George breathes, arching his back and suddenly the tip of the toy brushes right over his prostate.
It’s a shock to his whole system. He hasn’t really touched himself much in the last month, too busy with everything and he definitely didn’t pay his prostate any attention. But now he’s gagging for it, chasing the feeling down.
George arches his back more, pressing his chest onto the bedding and between that and the toys frantic thrusts, suddenly, without him meaning to, the knot pops in.
The stretch is short but immense and George yells loud in surprise.
He would lie if he said didn’t hurt. Yet between the stinging pain, there’s endless pleasure because now, the toy is fully stuck on his prostate. It keeps pressing into his sweet spot, making his eyes roll back from the it constant pressure. Sparks run up and down his spine, his cock twitching uncontrollably.
George grinds it into the mattress, desperate, babbling nonsensically, “Alex, Alex, Alex,” And he does feel crazy with it. The heat, the fullness, the pleasure.
He’s sweating bucket. He’s won a grand prix today. Maybe this is what omegas feel like all the time. This high, this full, this happy- Maybe Alex will want him like this, if he always takes a knot this well.
Then George comes, hard and loud into the sheets, fingers digging into the memory foam.
And what was blinding pleasure before tips into overstimulation in the blink of an eye. It feels like the toy is suddenly much bigger and the knot lodged inside of him feels impossible huge where it’s stretching his rim from the inside.
George scrambles up on his knees and reaches behind himself, trying to pull it out. Each pull sends a bolt of pain up his spine, as if his body has decided that now that the knot is in, it’ll never get out again.
Oh God, he’ll be stuck like this. He’ll have to go to a hospital and tell them how he’s a horny, pathetic beta that couldn’t keep to his own second gender and then got stuck on a knot like a desperate slut and-
The knot pops out with a last, stinging pull and George collapses back onto the bed, right into the wet patch of his own cum.
The tears that follow are only partially from the pain and mostly from the humiliation of it all.
Here he is, trying his damned hardest to be good for Alex when the idiot doesn’t even look at him anymore. Why does George always have to be the one jumping through hoops just for other people to barely acknowledge his existence? He has to bend backwards just to get an ounce of love from the public when people like Charles or Kimi get it from always flowing cups… And then act annoyed by it.
Toto still hasn’t extended his contract, George realizes as he’s swaying under the stream from the shower. It’s 4:30 in the morning and he still hasn’t extended his contract. What more does he need to do? Toto keep praising him but any time his manager approached Toto with a contract extension in the last months, it hadn’t led to anything. There’d always been excuses and bids for more time.
George makes a pact with himself then, if there’s no offer from Toto after the next week – he’ll approach other teams. Screw Mercedes if they can’t appreciate him for winning. If they want Max so bad, they can have him.
The happenings of the weekend leave George disconcerted and defeated when he wakes up the next morning.
The more time he has to think about it, the more he is ashamed by the way he had mindlessly and drunkenly rutted against the sheets with a knotting toy up his ass. How he’d given himself into his pleasure without control or measure – the only good thing is that no one saw him and the walls in the hotel were thick…
This was exactly why he didn’t want to start sleeping with men in the first place. The thing that had always scared George the most was the loss of control and he’d proven to himself now that he didn’t even need another man there for it to happen. No, the thought of Alex had been enough for him to do something that could have been downright dangerous.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
He used to have these self-deprecating thoughts too, at the beginning when Alex and him started sleeping together. The difference is, back then he had Alex to talk him through and out of them. He listened to George’s sob stories about being bullied in private school and how it influenced him to feel bad about his sexual desires now. How ashamed he always feels for them.
Alex made it all feel alright – hell, Alex could probably make George feel better about this too. Or – at least the old Alex could…
George is relieved when he finally makes it down to breakfast late and the hotel’s breakfast area is mostly deserted. He finds a corner in the back and slowly forces a bowl of yoghurt and fruit down. Everything tastes stale and there’s this nagging voice in his head that he doesn’t deserve this breakfast with the way he’d drunken yesterday. Too many calories – too much indulgence.
George is almost finished and ready to go back up to his room to wallow in self-pity and disgust when a person slides into the seat opposite of him unasked.
“Sure, Fernando, please do join me,” George says, admittedly a bit snippy which doesn’t deter Fernando.
“Thank you,” He says curtly, starting to eat his plate of eggs and bread. “How are you?”
George thinks for a moment, not about telling the truth but how to best lie, and then smiles what he hopes is a roguish smile, “Great, pretty hung over though…”
Fernando makes an understanding hum, spears another piece of egg and then fixes George with his dark eyes. They seem to look right through him, through his sunscreen, moisturiser, concealer for his dark circles and right to George’s rotting core.
“You could be world champion,” He then says, suddenly, and George can’t help but flinch in surprise. “Second beta to do it, after me of course. A nice lineup, I think. You and me.” He doesn’t seem sad or hurt, more- morose. Contemplative. Melancholic.
“You might still be the next world champion before me,” George tries to encourage him. “With Newey and all that Stroll money? I recon it’s possible.”
Fernando scoffs but then looks at George, weighing his head from one side to the other, “Maybe… But it’ll be another two years until that car is championship worthy. Mercedes is closer.”
“With the new regulations we might not,” George argues and he honestly doesn’t know why they are playing this game of ‘next beta winning a championship’ hot potato. “Anyway,” He waves off. His bowl is empty and he kind of wants to leave this conversation. “No use speculating about it.”
“It is useful if it makes us feel better,” Fernando mumbles into his breakfast and George suddenly realizes that this might be Fernando trying to connect with him on a deeper level… But then Fernando looks up again, saying sharply, “You need to lock in, George, yes? Get your head in the game to win a championship. No distractions. No other things. To win a championship it needs to be the only thing on your mind – yes?”
George gulps down his own plentiful spit at the expecting way Fernando stares at him.
Fernando of course- he can’t know what’s going on in George’s head but right now it awfully feels like it. It feels like he knows exactly how George’s mind is now split between F1 and Alex – in equal parts.
Which shouldn’t be.
A new wave of shame hits George. Here he is, thinking about something benign like relationships and sex when really, he should be locking in to fulfil his lifelong dream. His legacy could be him being only the second beta to become a world champion – that’s what no one can take away from him. Something that lasts longer than his own life. Something that means something to more people than just him. It could inspire a whole generations of beta drivers.
“I- of course,” George stutters and takes a deep breath before answering steadily, “I’m totally locked in. The championship – nothing else.” And he not only promises to Fernando but also vows it so himself. No more distractions.
He's a beta, he can ignore all of that second gender noise and concentrate on what matters. That’s his greatest asset. He has to use it.
Fernando’s face splits into a pleased smile and he nods, “It is always best like this: betas staying with betas and them doing what they do… Getting into their- business never ends well for anyone.” And it reveals what George had been thinking, that Fernando somehow knew he was still hung up on Alex…
“You’re right,” George relents earnestly. He’ll have to leave them to whatever they’re doing – Carlos and Alex and all the others. It’ll be saver for George’s heart to stay away. Nothing to hurt him even further and embarrass him. Saver.
ALEX
Watching George win and not being able to congratulate him is hell. He tries not to see the Miami podium celebration but the moment he opens his phone, his Instagram shows him a highlight reel: George smiling as bright as the sun, spraying champagne and laughing with Kimi. Then it cuts to them wrapping and arm around each other for a photo and so does Max and it’s- too much. The thought of Max’ burning petrol scent clinging to George makes Alex feel ready to storm into the Red Bull garage and do something stupid.
Instead, he flees into the pack room.
In Miami they have this chic thing with dimmable lights, multiple nesting places, a kitchen and a spa area. But the group has simply assembled on the biggest couch, mostly consisting of those who’s races didn’t go well.
No one questions when Alex toes off his shoes and dives into the nest. Charles opens his arms for him, face unreadable, and not for the first time, Alex wishes he could smell his scent and know what he feels. Instead, the nest is overpowered by Ollie’s scent.
By now Alex has gotten used to the way the younger driver’s smell – softer, almost a bit milky when they are happy. Alex himself doesn’t smell that way, the others had said and so he guesses it must be an age thing… But Ollie doesn’t smell like that now, his woody, cedar scent has gone smoky with unhappiness. He lets out these keening, small whines as Carlos runs a hand through his hair and rocks him gently.
When their eyes meet over the top of Ollie’s head, Carlos mouths the words ‘Kimi’ and ‘fight’, which Alex had already gathered by the way Ollie and Kimi had looked all weekend. Troubled – away from each other in a way that’s not typical for them.
Alex tries not to be too involved in the messy relationships of his younger packmates, that’s the job of the more experienced people and he has enough problems himself…
This is supported a few hours later when they had all ate dinner together, Carlos pulls him to the side in the kitchen. The others are sitting a way away on the couch, noisily playing a round of Mario kart to distract Ollie.
“I coordinated with Patrick and made a doctor’s appointment for you with an endocrinologist in France,” Carlos says in a low voice, eyes big and round in the dimmed light of the pack room.
“What?! Why?” Alex blanches. “I do my meditations; Lewis can attest to that! And I’m eating well. I take good care of my den I-” He hears his own heartbeat in his ears so loud he can barely hear his own words.
In all this time he didn’t think- Why would- He’s been trying so hard to be a good alpha – why does he need to go to a doctor now?
Carlos’ face has pinched tight as he listens to Alex’ outburst and he sounds very serious when he says, “With a late presentation like this it’s better to make sure nothing is wrong. I gave you a month gather yourself, now it’s time.” And he wraps a gentle but strong hand around Alex’ forearm. “If you can assure me that you aren’t still having these obsessive thoughts about George – if your alpha didn’t go crazy seeing him up there with Max, then I might re-think it.”
“I- that’s unfair,” Alex stutters. Carlos’ sugary scent feels like sirup on his tongue, trying to calm him but the panic sits too deep.
He’ll have to go to a doctor, get his blood drawn definitely and maybe there’re other examinations. Operations. Anesthesia.
Why does he suddenly need to do this? The only thing that makes sense to Alex is that Carlos knows that he kissed George – why else the sudden appointment without asking him first? Why else would he go over Alex’ obvious wishes like this?
“You know I couldn’t- I trusted Lewis with that, he shouldn’t have told you!” Alex chokes out, ripping his arm out of Carlos’ grip with too much force.
“Told me what?” Carlos questions, eyes narrowing.
Alex’ breath stutters and he realizes the mistake he’s made in his panic, “Nothing! Nothing, I didn’t do anything.”
“Listen Alex,” Carlos sighs deeply, frustration clear on his face. “We’re just trying to take care of you. I know how difficult your fear of doctors is for you. I’ll join you, I promise, but there’s no way around it.”
“I don’t want to,” Alex whines, letting his head hang low.
He's only ever done the mandatory FIA checkups in the last few years. Any other stuff he’d avoided like the plague.
What if he’s really ill? If this late presentation is just a symptom of something worse? If he needs more than just this one appointment? A surgery? Pills? Injections? What if he’ll die young. God, how much time did he waste-
“Breathe,” Carlos’ voice cuts through the haze of his quickened breath.
There’s a gentle hand on his neck, squeezing the gland on the side and Alex whole body sags. The sound of the game has gone quiet and instead there are murmuring voices.
“We’ll take care of you, yeah?” Carlos’ voice sounds from in front of him but there’s another set of arms wrapping around Alex from the side. Then another. And another. The scent of the pack mixes around him and the gentle coos from the omegas fill the quietness.
“Sorry,” Alex brings out between ragged breathes. “This is all just really hard…”
“I can’t imagine of difficult this is for you,” Ollie says unexpectedly from the side, his nose brushing over Alex’ shirt. His scent has gone milder, the woodsy side of his scent emerging again.
Alex leans his head to the side, instinctually, and brushes his neck against Ollie’s, who gladly returns the gesture. Other than Carlos, Alex hasn’t scented anyone else from the pack like this but it feels right.
In front of him, Carlos starts purring against his chest and maybe- maybe it’ll all be okay.
By the time the doctor’s appointment rolls around the next week, Alex is almost back to his normal, high anxiety levels. The morning of the appointment, Patrick gives him something to calm him down and Carlos drives him there. He also holds Alex’ hand while he gets his blood drawn and coaxes him into the room, where the doctor awaits him. If he thinks about running every few seconds, that’s between him and God.
In the room with the doctor he has to unpack the whole thing again. His past with George and what’s happened up until this point. Alex can’t reasonably skip over explaining the way he kissed George after Japan and so he doesn’t – Carlos stays impassive but his eyebrows raise slightly as he hears it, apparently for the first time.
After Alex is done, his eyes are wet but the doctor gives him an encouraging smile, “Mr Albon, I can assure you, you are not the first or last of my patients with this issue. Failed imprinting happens more often than the public thinks – there’s no shame in it. I expect the results from the blood test will show a clear dysregulation of the most important mating hormones, which I would attribute to your late presentation. Given that the beta is not interested in fulfilling your alphas’ imprinting, we could attempt a course of hormone supplements to slowly sever the connection.”
“Sever?” The word sounds- brutal to Alex’ ears. “How would that work?” Alex asks.
“You’d take a hormone supplement for multiple months and continue your meditation exercises,” The doctor explains. “It’s imperative, though, that you don’t consciously encourage further imprinting of your alpha. This means no long term physical or emotional attachment to the beta in question.”
“What would happen if he doesn’t keep that separation?” Carlos asks, leaning forward in his chair. From the sharp look in his eyes, Alex guesses that they’re both finding the thought of Alex managing to stay away from George difficult.
“The treatment would be unsuccessful and a further disruption of the endocrine system can happen,” The doctor says, a sorry expression on his face. “We only encourage this treatment plan if a stable pack and, preferably, a closer alpha or omega is there to alleviate the physical pressures of the treatment.”
“What would that entail?” Carlos asks. Alex can already see that he’s doing the calculations in his head – what time plan the pack would need to keep to accommodate Alex’ treatment, if it’s possible during the season.
Alex himself isn’t even sure it’s a good idea to do it at all. Mostly because he’s honest with himself – and staying away from George feels impossible.
“We’d expect a heightened sexual drive and a higher rut frequency, even when he’s freshly presented,” The doctor says towards Carlos, like he’s already caught on that it would be Carlos’ responsibility to accommodate that part.
Alex’ head swims at that.
It was one thing to sleep with Carlos as a last resort and only option. He’d been stuck in Australia and there had been no other omega that he could trust. Carlos had been the only option. But now?
“Is it- save? Even though I’ve only had my maturing rut?” Alex grasps for straws. “I’ve been meditating regularly and that’s definitely helping!”
He knows that even to his personal inconvenience, Carlos wouldn’t say no to helping Alex. Not only because he’s a kind and considerate person but also because he sees it as his duty as the pack omega.
“It’s not ideal,” The doctor concedes, reclining his head to the side. “But with these symptoms you’re describing, I don’t think we can wait the time it naturally takes for an imprinting to die off. It can take years. And while meditation can be enough for a slight dissonance between the alpha and the person, it won’t help you fully get over the imprinting.”
And it feels like a death sentence. Even the doctor doesn’t believe that Alex will be able to do this on his own. Carlos doesn’t either – no one does.
Carlos drives them back to Alex’ apartment, the car heating blasting against Alex shivering. When they are there, he guides Alex into the bathroom where he forces him into the shower with a huffed, “You smell like death, scrub yourself off…”
Alex is actually glad he can’t smell himself anymore because he does feel like something inside of him just died.
Carlos closes the door behind himself but it feels wrong, like Alex shouldn’t be alone right now. But going back out to Carlos doesn’t feel right either it’s all just- messed up. Everything feels strange, artificial almost. Like it’s not real.
Alex doesn’t even realize he’s done it until his phone is already out and George’s number unblocked.
The action had felt so impossible for the last month but now it’s almost easy.
He can’t- He can’t do this without telling George why. If he really has to stay away for months, that deserves a proper explanation. An apology as well, for everything Alex has already put him through.
He can’t lie, not even to himself. Of course he wants George to forgive him but he also knows he doesn’t deserve it.
The phone rings four times, treacherous seconds, before jumping to voice mail.
George’s chipper voice sounds, a little crackly, “This is George Russell’s voicemail. I’m currently occupied, please leave a message after the tone or call me again at a later time.”
Alex isn’t quick enough to hang up before the tone, so he awkwardly stutters, “Hey Georgie, Alex here… I- I just wanted to talk, I guess. I’m sorry, for the last month I- there’s stuff going on but- I was a right ass for ignoring you.” He wants to face palm himself. “Anyway, you know that, of course… Text me or call me please, I- I miss you and I wanted to say goodbye. That’s all.”
He hangs up, unable to say anything else other than an endless stream of ‘I’m sorry’.
He ruined it for both of them – all of it. Why did he need to have his stupid presentation at almost thirty? Why did he need to present at all? His life was good – better than good but now-
There’s a harsh knock on the door, followed by Carlos’ voice, “Go shower, Alex.”
When Alex gets out of the shower, Carlos is still there, sitting on Alex’ couch, and it does something unsettling to Alex’ alpha. It’s even worse that George hasn’t acknowledged his voicemail yet – sure, it’s only been ten minutes but still…
“Are you feeling better?” Carlos asks from where he’s made himself comfortable, reading something on his phone. “You know it’ll only hurt him more if you drag it out.”
Alex lets himself sink down onto the couch next to Carlos, snipping right back, “I did something really fucking hard today, I don’t know why you’re so mean to me…” Carlos fixes him with a slight glare. “Also listening at the bathroom door? Really? I didn’t think you’d stoop that low-”
“-I’m protecting you,” Carlos interrupts him, hissing, “I’m protecting you and the team from the fallout of that catastrophic mistake you’re on the verge of committing any second that you are awake.”
Of course Alex knows about it, the way that relationships between betas and people with second genders are frowned upon… It’s a given thing, just a fact that in many countries and cultures it’s not seen as normal. But George and him are British, public people – surely no one would dare infringe on them based on their relationship… Alex goes to voice that but doesn’t get far, “Oh come on-”
“-No, Alex. I know this is all new to you but you can’t be this naïve to think that a beta-alpha relationship of two active drivers won’t be a big fucking scandal. Williams needs any and every sponsor we can get – we’d risk losing all of the conservative ones,” Carlos’ eyes shine strangely and for the first time, Alex considers what skin Carlos actually has in this situation.
He's come from Ferrari down to Williams – a formerly clear backmarker team – and has given his blood and sweat to get them where they are now. Of course, he doesn’t want Alex to now ruin it for him. But in the end, “I need to do this right, Carlos,” Alex pleads. “George deserves an explanation. I’ve left him waiting for too long already.”
“’An explanation’,” Carlos scoffs. “Can you really be sure that if he calls you now – wants to meet you – that you won’t cross a line again?”
Alex can’t help roll his eyes, “Of course not. We literally went to a doctor today because I’m so pathetically attracted to my childhood best friend.”
Carlos looks him up and down, “And you’re really sure that he doesn’t want-”
“-Of course not,” Alex echoes his own words, this time more deprecating. “I’m a freak of nature and George has always been very conscious of the difference between betas and-“ He finishes by gesturing between Carlos and himself. “He’s too proper to do something this out there. He was shocked when I kissed him – he looked like he’d seen a ghost. He made it very clear, non-verbally, that he didn’t want me.”
Of course, he thought about it, the possibility that George and him could somehow make it work. But he’d always come back to George’s reaction when Alex kissed him – the shock and horror. The wide eyes.
George hadn’t expected it and that’s not because they didn’t used to kiss – because they used to kiss so regularly – but because he didn’t think it was right for an alpha and a beta to kiss. And it’s as simple as that. George was raised in a conservative family of betas who all married into other beta families and no one did anything else. George doesn’t want an alpha, if it’s Alex or not. It was always clear. No alphas.
Alex is slightly startled when he finds Carlos’ face closer to his than before.
“You’re not a freak, Alex,” Carlos says firmly, holding his gaze. “You’ve been given shit cards but that doesn’t make you a bad person or an outlier. You’re not even the first failed imprinting on the grid.”
“What?” Alex asks, surprised. From all he’s seen, the pack is very calm and in tune. There are no romantic attachments other than the boding relationship between Ollie and Kimi – which apparently isn’t going to well at the moment but that isn’t due to an unreciprocated imprinting.
“If I tell you, will you keep it to yourself?” Carlos asks with raised eyebrows, leaning back on the couch but not bringing much space between them. They’re still so close their legs touch. Alex nods quickly, leaning forward, and Carlos drops the bomb, “Max imprinted on Charles.”
“What?!” Alex gawks.
Of course, Max’ and Charles’ rivalry is a tale as old as time but this is the first time anyone had ever mentioned something as substantial as an imprinting to him.
“Yes,” Carlos nods gravely. “It happened a bit more gradually for Max. He presented as an alpha when he was already in F1. Then Charles came in a few years later he just- fell head over heels into it over the season… He was a bit like you, struggled accepting even the presence of his imprint.”
“But Charles is mated to someone else now,” Alex acknowledges.
“He is,” Carlos nods. “But back then he was unmated and still – he did not want Max. He tried courting him but it didn’t lead to anything. Some things are just out of our control,” Carlos sighs, tiredly.
“How did he get over it? Max, I mean,” Alex asks, curious because nowadays, he would have never guessed that Max had any special feelings towards Charles.
“The honest answer?” Carlos asks, a little slily. Again, Alex nods. “He slept around until Christian had to give him a warning. I’m talking three different omegas in a week, just a parade of them in and out of his hotel room. It became a burden on the team.”
“Jesus…” Alex sighs. “And that helped him get over it?”
He can’t even imagine sleeping with one other omega than Carlos, he realises. Anyone else would just feel- strange. Foreign. And having multiple omegas a week, that just feels disgusting to him.
“It did,” Carlos shrugs. “Not without tears and tantrums but in the end, he did an additional hormone treatment, way less intense than yours, over a winter break and it cured him. At the time I wasn’t the pack omega of course, but I was friends with both of them and I got to see both sides of it.”
Not for the first time, Alex has the thought that Carlos had to carry way more than the burden of driving the fastest cars in the world. Being the pack omega is one thing, but being friends with two people in that kind of a situation? That’s another level of difficult.
“Do you think Max would talk about it with me?” Alex asks.
“Maybe,” Carlos says but doesn’t sound convinced. When Alex makes a questioning face he explains, “He was very embarrassed about the whole thing and I think he’s happy to have left it behind him now. I don’t think he’d like to stir up all these emotions again.”
“Understandable,” Alex nods, not able to hide the solemn expression on his face.
Will he be like this too, in a few years? Happy to never think about this time in his life? Happy that he forgot the way his alpha felt about George?
Carlos lays a gentle hand on his leg, giving it a squeeze, “Will you do the treatment?”
“It’s such a burden to you all…” Alex trails off. He’d need to stay close to the pack for at least half a year, similar to what he does now. There’s the summer break – someone would always need to be in Monaco for him, best if it’d be an omega. But again, Alex can’t imagine sleeping with any of them.
Carlos gives his leg another squeeze, lamenting, “I don’t mind, Alex. And I’m sure the other won’t either,” And Alex is unsure of what he means, staying in Monaco or- the other stuff…
Alex cringes a bit at the thought, “I don’t want you to just ‘don’t mind it’, Carlos… I know that there’s- people for that, that do it professionally-”
“-You’re not hiring an omega,” Carlos says, incensed, taking his hand off Alex’ leg like he burned himself. Alex can’t help but whine a little, prompting Carlos to put it back with an apologetic looks. “The discrete ones are unbelievably expensive, especially if you want the same omega for multiple months, which is what you need. It’s much easier to have a packmate do it and really, I don’t mind. I’m chronically under-fucked anyway. You were good during your rut and the pack and I profit from you being regulated. You and I mostly travel together anyway, it makes sense.”
That at least is a strong argument, Carlos and him really travel mostly together, taking the same planes on the same schedule. Alex’ brain lags a little behind, the he realizes, “How could you of all people be under-fucked?!” He splutters.
“Ah, yes,” Carlos acknowledges, suddenly bashful. “Alphas- they are sometimes intimidated by me, I think. Being a driver and the pack omega, they think I will not prioritize them. It is difficult to have someone, long term…”
“I’m sorry,” Alex says earnestly.
He never thought about why Carlos, at 30 and looking the way he did, hadn’t mated or even courted someone publicly. He’d assumed Carlos himself didn’t want to but of course, there had also been other factors at play.
Carlos shrugs, smiling gently, “Don’t be. I like being the pack omega and I wouldn’t change it for the world. Seb taught me everything I needed to know and I’m very proud of it.” And there’s a radiant glow on his face that suddenly makes him even more beautiful than before. “There’ll someday be an alpha out there that can accept that and will love me for who I am.”
“That’s very strong of you,” Alex says, almost feeling a bit dizzy with the way this whole conversation played out.
“Thanks,” Carlos scoffs but it’s not mean or anything. He follows it up with a warm smile and Alex realizes, not for the first time, how grateful he has to be for having such a caring pack. His alpha makes him rumble in content, eliciting a low purr from Carlos.
Really, he has the best pack and the best pack omega. And it’s a shame that no other alpha appreciates Carlos for who he is. And Carlos really is the first person to see and appreciate Alex for who he is now, possessive alpha and all. That’s priceless. Even now, when it seems like George and him won’t ever be anything again, he has Carlos.
In the duration of their conversation, they’ve gotten even closer. Carlos’ warm smell fills his nostrils but it’s nice – it smells like Carlos is happy and content. Alex can now count the stubble on Carlos’ cheeks and the cracks in his plush lips.
Instead, he kisses him. Carlos immediately reciprocates, burying his hands in Alex’ hair and for a split second, Alex feels something like true comfort.
Sleeping with Carlos this time satisfies an itch in the way a blunt nail does. Both of them cum and there’s the physical relief of that, but just like during his rut, Alex brain always plays George’s name, over and over again. This time he manages to supress it crossing his lips though and Carlos looks pleased at that.
His body feels better, the restless prickling of his skin and the coldness are gone, but inside of Alex’ head, his alpha is still not fully satisfied.
Carlos must be sensing that as Alex lies above him, still knotted deep inside of him and he lulls with his eyes closed, “I say this as your pack omega, not as your friend or teammate, but giving into this urge won’t fix you. George won’t be able to give you what you need – physically. And it’s not fair of you to expect that from him. The hormone treatment is the best option.”
“I just want to be friends again,” Alex lies, nuzzling into Carlos’ neck where he smells so deeply of something edible. “I’ll do the treatment but I need him to know that I’ve not abandoned him.”
Carlos’ hand comes up, cradling his nape as he hums, “You cannot be friends. People like George and you, with the way you look at each other? You cannot be friends,” Carlos sighs contently, closing his arms around Alex’ back. “Don’t let your alpha take over in this matter. He doesn’t make the choices – you do. If you meet with George to say goodbye, do it somewhere public so there’s no risk-”
“-Come on, I won’t go crazy or anything. I’m not a predator,” Alex snarls lowly, baring his teeth against Carlos’ clavicle. Not only he himself but also his alpha is incensed at the pure mention of him hurting George. He’d never do that. Not in a million years.
“No, but in this state you’re in, you’d chose George over the pack any minute. If he gives you the option, you’d pick him, that’s the nature of an imprinting. And I’m not exposing the pups to that drama,” Carlos says lazily, glancing at Alex from the side.
“They’re not pups, they are adults,” Alex rolls his eyes, mouthing at Carlos’ skin absentmindedly.
“Most of them are still teenagers and they need a stable environment. Kimi presented only three months ago, Ollie too,” Carlos says a bit bitchy, giving Alex’ hair a cheeky tug.
“And so did I! Two months ago,” Alex argues, lifting himself up a little to look Carlos in the face.
Carlos ignores that point, warning him softly, “Being in the pack comes with many advantages and it’s good for us. Physically and mentally. But you also have a responsibility now. Everyone does. We are your second family and unless you want to give that up, you need to control yourself and not disrupt our pack dynamics by dragging some beta into it.”
Thankfully, Alex’ knot choses that moment to deflate enough so he can pull out.
He grimaces at the cum and slick flowing out, dripping onto his couch. He quickly gets up to get a towel, ending the conversation he didn’t even want to have any longer.
He cleans both Carlos and the couch up and they get dressed in silence.
“I think I need to sleep,” Alex finally says. It’s way too early to go to bed for the night but maybe he can do a short nap and go to the gym after. He definitely doesn’t want Carlos to stick around any longer and lecture him…
“Okay,” Carlos nods, collecting his stuff. “Do your meditations and stay in touch with Lewis, he worries for you. Call me if you- need something,” Carlos offers, the inuendo clear. ‘Come to me before you do something stupid like going to George for sex’.
“I will,” Alex says, guiding Carlos to the door and he breathes a little easier, once he’s gone.
Alex slouches off to his den.
He cuddles deeply into it, basking in the scents of his packmates’ items. Kimi’s soft cotton scent is almost gone now but he’s not the pack member Alex is closest to anyway. Out of all of their scents, Lewis’ dewy petrichor scent is still the strongest and for a moment, it only elicits guilt.
Lewis is such a good alpha. He takes care of everyone, protects them and helps them reach their goals. He always has an open ear and besides being a good pack alpha, he also is a great mate to Nico. He has it all figured out. And Alex, especially in comparison, is just a mess…
Alex closes his eyes, starting to go about his meditations.
He feels himself from the bottom of his feet, to the crown of his head, to the tips of his fingers. He feels the softness and security of his den. Anytime his thoughts veer off towards George, he reigns them back in. And let’s go of George.
When he’s meditating is really the only time that it feels possible. The only time where both he and his alpha are in tune.
But then a soft light flickers behind his eyelids and when Alex opens them, his phone on his nightstand glows softly with an incoming call.
From George.
Alex is up in seconds, a low yelp coming from him that would embarrass him if anyone heard it. His beta is calling him. His, his, his-
“Georgie?” Alex almost flinches at his own rough voice.
There’s a moment of silence on the other end of the line, then George’s cold voice acknowledging him, “Alex. I wasn’t really expecting you to call me, since you had me blocked for over a month,” The venom in his tone shouldn’t shock Alex but it still does.
He expected to find George somewhat resentful and angry, but not this jaded and dejected. He sounds tired mostly, like Alex calling him is an inconvenience. Like he had better things to do.
“I’m sorry,” Alex rushes out desperately. He can’t lose his beta. Not like this, not now, not without an explanation.
“Yeah, okay,” George says, voice strained and Alex wishes he could see him, read his expression.
He’d like to fall on his knees maybe, explain what he had and will still have to do to fix all of this. He wants to says that it’s basically doctors’ orders to stay away from George but admitting his imprinting over the phone, it feels wrong. This is something between George and him – no one else has a right to hear or judge it and if he tells George, it should be face to face.
And maybe- maybe George will still accept him.
“This is a shit show…” Alex releases in a shuddering breath, feeling close to tears. “Can we like- meet? To talk in person? I miss you, George, and I’m so sorry for what I did.”
“Do you regret kissing me?” George asks in a strained voice, surprising Alex.
Off all things, this isn’t what Alex expected to be his biggest question or problem.
And does Alex regret it? Yes, yes because George hadn’t explicitly said he wanted it but also no. He cherishes every kiss he’s had with George but he wishes it had happened differently.
“It’s complicated…” Alex settles on, hoping that this non-answer won’t make George hang up on him.
He seems to contemplate it but then offers tentatively, “I’ll be in Monaco tomorrow… If you have time we could meet at my place?”
“Yes. Yes, I’d like that a lot.” Alex replies, almost falling over his own words to agree as quickly as he can. His body rushes hot with the realization that he’ll be able to speak with George soon. And because he’s greedy, now that he has George on the line, he asks, “How- were the last months for you? You drove phantastic last Sunday in Miami. A very deserved win; a great drive.” And he flushes even hotter when he remembers how George looked on the podium.
There’s a strangled sounds from the other end of the line.
“Can you stop acting like everything is normal, please?” George’s voice sounds defeated but there’s also anger in there. Alex bites his lip. “I don’t want to talk about racing with you when the last thing you did was kiss me and then you ran away. You blocked me, Alex. I tried to call you and text you and speak to you and you ignored me. Just because you’re ready to talk now doesn’t mean I have to be,” His voice builds until he’s speaking loudly. He doesn’t yell – Alex can’t remember a time where George actually yelled from anger – but still the message is clear.
“I’m sorry,” Alex whispers in between the sounds of George’s laboured breath. “Maybe we should-”
But George doesn’t wait to hear what Alex wants to say and interrupts him with a sure, “-We’ll talk tomorrow. Come to mine at 8 in the evening. I have to go now.”
Alex’ brain supplies the women again, that Kimi mentioned seeing George with. In a misguided way, it feels like a betrayal that George will maybe go meet her now, when Alex is willing to meet him and- he needs to stop. It’s getting out of hand again. George isn’t his – he never was.
“Yes, okay,” Alex replies quickly. He would have expected George to cancel their meeting with how agitated he was just then and he doesn’t want to risk it now. Even though he has so much more to say. So many things to apologize for…
But George’s voice is soft when he says, “Take care of yourself, Alex,” And it makes Alex’ heart skip a beat because he knows that George means it.
“You too…” He whispers back, unsure if it’s his place to say but he really hopes that George is really doing okay. There’s a deep sigh at the end of the line, then the phone call ends.
Alex stays awake for a long, long time after the phone call ends.
His skin feels too tight on his bones and any time he tries to get back into his meditation, his alpha refuses. He wants to get on a plane, fly to England or Miami or wherever George is right now, have his beta back-
He finally manages to stick to the meditation he was doing before George called. His alpha makes it difficult but finally, he returns to some resemblance of calm. It works well enough that after a few hours, he falls into a fitful sleep.
Alex dreams of George.
He dreams that their conversation tomorrow evening goes badly, that George cusses him out and the tells him to leave. He dreams of Carlos telling him that he told him so.
But he also dreams of George embracing him, kissing him, loving him again. Memories mix into those dreams but in the end, both dream-George’s acceptance and rejection hurt. Both make him scared for what’s to follow.
Notes:
So... How do we think this conversation will go?
Hope you enjoyed this chapter:)
Up next: 'Rewriting the past in blood'
Chapter 6: Rewriting the past in blood
Notes:
Short reminder before this chapter: I don't write perfect and always "morally right" acting characters... I don't condone some of the thoughts and behaviours in this chapter but I do believe that that is how humans sometimes are.
Proceed with caution and heed the tags please.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
GEORGE
George can’t stomach anything in the day before Alex is coming over. He tries to tell himself that it’s from the intracontinental travel he did just a few days ago but he knows it’s not only that… There’s this low, constant buzzling in his ears and any time he gets up, the blood feels like it rushing through him much faster than it should.
To distract himself, he goes on a jog with Aleix. The Monaco air is fresh and light, decidedly less humid than Miami and George is very grateful for it. Monaco feels clean – like George can be clean here as well.
But because fate is cruel, right as they are about to turn back to jog to George’s apartment, they cross paths with Carlos of all people. He’s in company of his personal team, ready to go out for a bicycle ride as it seems by the laughably tight and 55-branded outfits they are all wearing…
When their eyes meet, George pinches out a tight smile that only gets returned with a courteous nod from Carlos and then he quickly turns away.
It makes George feel like shit and also superior at the same time.
If Alex and Carlos are really- something, courting, whatever, then George at least has this. Alex desperately wants to meet him tonight. Carlos is in town but instead of being with him, Alex decided that George was more important.
It’s only a small victory if Carlos is really Alex’ chosen omega but George feels petty like that. He has to take the wins where he can get them.
When they arrive at George’s flat, Aleix ready to jog home to his own place, George finally admits, “Alex and I will meet later today.”
Aleix immediately stops where he was gently jogging in place and gives George a careful but worried look. “You think that’s a good idea?”
“We can’t ignore each other forever, I think,” George tries to shrug casually. “Yes, he was a bit of a dick but I’m sure he’ll apologize and have at least a decent explanation for it.”
“Well then…” Aleix trails off, looking unconvinced. “I hope it goes well and you get what you want from it.”
The worst thing is, George doesn’t even know what that is.
When Alex called him, he was just angry and felt rejected. He wanted to be mean to Alex but now that the emotions have had time to cool off, he’s not so sure anymore.
Deep down, he wants things to go back to how they were.
But that’s impossible – and what else is left that he wants? If they can’t be like they were before – can they be friends again? When Carlos’ bite will be on Alex’ neck? When they’ll move in together? Will George have to visit Alex in the place he’ll be sharing with another man?
The thought is dizzying.
George would always say that he’s a person capable of growth and learning but that- that feels like too much. When Alex is Carlos’, he doesn’t want to see it first-hand. He’ll have to bear it in the media and the paddock but he won’t have to in private.
So maybe it’s good that Alex said he wanted a goodbye. George will take it. He’ll take one last goodbye and make it a memorable one. Something to hold on to. A last memory of the closeness George only ever experienced with Alex – no other person.
Screw Carlos, if he couldn’t keep Alex from meeting with him, he doesn’t have a right to him. If George can, he’ll have Alex. One last time, even just for the night.
The hour before Alex comes, his nervousness and agitation peek. He walks through his flat like a ghost, from room to room but without doing something sensible. The only thing that finally makes him feel better, is picking up his phone and calling, “Yes?” Fernando’s voice sounds.
“Hey, how’s it going?” George asks in a shaky voice. Fernando invited him onto his boat for the day but George had to decline, given his meeting with Alex.
Fernando happily chitchats away, talking about the boat and the weather and the other people he invited on. When he finally asks George what he’s doing, he admits, “Alex will come over in an hour… I’m really nervous. We haven’t talked really, since-” He trails off.
“Ah,” Fernando makes in acknowledgement, not sounding too surprised. “Watch out for yourself, okay? Don’t let him intimidate you,” He warns. In the background, George can hear a door closing and the sound of the waves against the boat stops. Fernando must have went into the cabin.
“Alex wouldn’t intimidate me,” George tries to assure them both. While he will probably feel intimidated, that’s not because Alex wants that to happen. “We- used to be friends. I like him, he likes me.”
“Yes but now he has the pack, more power,” Fernando spits out venomously. There’s glass clattering in the background. “Wouldn’t be the first to try to leverage that. You’re a good driver, George, he cannot change that no matter how much alpha postering he does.”
George sobers up at that, saying, “I know.” When really, sometimes, it doesn’t feel like it, especially with his contract not being extended yet…
Sure, he’s won one grand prix but that doesn’t mean anything if Toto wants Max over him instead. There’ll be nothing he can do other than be graceful and bow out of Mercedes as if it’s not everything to him. His life. His dream. His everything that then goes to one of the people he dislikes the most – as that person’s career back-up plan.
Max never wanted to be a Mercedes driver, never in the way George wanted at least.
It'll be the same with Alex. He’ll have to accept that someone else was better than him – more valued for reason George cannot change – and then accept that with a smile. He’ll have to watch how some day, Carlos and Alex will turn up in the paddock with matching bite marks and he’ll tell every interviewer how happy he is for them.
So yeah, maybe he’ll be selfish this last time.
The doorman shoots George a test at the exact time that Alex and him agreed to meet and not even a minute after, his doorbell rings.
He’s been perched on one of the bar chairs in his kitchen but when he gets up to open the door, has to take a few deep breathes, trying to dispel the woozy feeling that’s from both nerves and the lack of food he’s had. His hands are sweaty and his whole body feels like it’s one buzzing current of electricity.
When he opens the door, Alex looks surprisingly unsure. He’s buried deep into a hoodie way too warm for the weather and he looks like he too hasn’t slept well lately. There are dark rings under his eyes and his hair looks oilier than he usually lets it get.
The sight alone makes George soften inside.
“Hey,” Alex greets, voice soft and small.
He doesn’t just bully his way past George like he usually would and that twinges George’s guts. Somehow, he expected Alex to be as easy going and talkative as he usually was. He expected a quick ‘What’s up, Georgie?’ and then for Alex to breeze past him right to his usual spot on the couch.
Instead, it seems like Alex doesn’t dare get closer to him or even enter his space without express permission. Like there’s an invisible barrier between them.
George can’t help but wonder if this is Alex’ way of staying faithful to Carlos – if they had a conversation about this exact moment and Carlos drew the line at Alex entering George’s personal space. For all George knows, that’s a typical omega and alpha thing, keeping your distance to people that are not your pack or mate.
“Hey, come in,” George offers after an embarrassing long moment, trying desperately to act like he’s ok. For all his gall and selfish intentions, he feels off-kilter. He expected both of them to react differently and now, as he turns around to go back into his apartment, he wonders if this really was a good idea. But it’s already too late; Alex follows him inside. “Do you want to drink something?” He offers when they pass the kitchen.
“Water?” Alex asks cautiously, like he expects George to say no even though he offered.
George gestures for Alex to take a seat on the couch as he prepares them two glasses with water and puts them down on the low side table. The room is already filled with the thickness of Alex’ scent, a soft blanket that surrounds them, as George awkwardly sits down, meters away from him. He wishes he could smell his scent now, know what he’s feeling…
Outside, the sun is still high in the sky even though it’s evening. Boats speckle the blue ocean and George knows that in the streets below, people are walking to the many bars or restaurants Monaco has to offer. George could be one of those happy people now – instead, he brought himself into this uncomfortable situation.
“So… How are you? You look- well,” George struggles. He wants to ask so many things, be angry, but it feels wrong when Alex looks so vulnerable. He looks small and helpless and unsure. He’s gripping his glass of water but he hasn’t taken a single sip yet.
“Yeah, I feel okay mostly. Sleep is tough,” Alex shrugs but when George really looks, he thinks he can see wetness in Alex’ eyes.
“That’s good! Okay is- okay,” George says and immediately wants to face-palm himself. “I imagine all the new smells are overwhelming?” He asks the next best thing, holding onto small talk for dear life. Maybe he should talk about the weather next.
Alex seems grateful for the easy topic though, agreeing quickly with a careful look at George, “Yes! Very much. Suddenly now I can tell when Max is horny or Lewis is unhappy that’s- a lot.” And he pulls a funny face that almost makes George laugh. The mention of both Max and Lewis of all people stings though and to cover his wince, George too picks up his glass and cradles it.
“Do you- smell, like, different to them?” He asks. God, he wishes he could smell Alex… Not just this heavy but vague nothingness but the real smell of him. The notes, the emotions, then all of this might be easier.
“Yes, uhm, like orchids and earth they say. A mature smell for a newly presented alpha, probably because I’m so old… Usually it’s more acidic or unpleasant, the smell of them,” Alex explains, “Olli smells like very strong cedar, almost a bit medicinal.”
“Mhm,” George hums. He’s always loved the way orchids smell and the thought that Alex- well it’s just a shit thing, is all, that Alex now has one of his favourite scents… “Sounds nice – orchids, I mean,” George agrees, unable to keep the annoyance from his tone.
“I guess,” Alex says, awkwardly looking off to the side. “How are you?”
“Okay, driving is good… I’m a bit overworked, maybe,” George admits. Overworked is an understatement. At this rate he’s living in the sim at the factory… “The team- Kimi and I are a bit awkward. We don’t connect as easily as Lewis and I and it feels like the team can tell. That doesn’t help.”
Alex nods at that, “Kimi has a lot going on at the moment. He’s still adjusting too. Olli and him are- something but that’s not easy with both of them being drivers in different teams and stuff-” He halts a little at the end, evidently realizing what he was saying and going a little red.
George can’t help staring at him then, taking in the way his face turns into an awkward grimace under his scrutiny. He’s never seen Alex like this. Never. It’s almost like he’s a different person entirely.
George carefully places his glass back onto the table and Alex mirrors him. Under all his insecurity and uncertainty, his original plan still stands. On his voicemail Alex had said he wanted a goodbye – George will give him one hell of a goodbye. He’s always been an overachiever.
“It wasn’t an issue for us… Maybe you can give them some tips?” He says, trying to act unbothered as he brazenly alludes to their sex life before Alex presented.
“Tips?” Alex asks dumbly, eyes big as saucers and visibly hanging on George’s lips. The attention makes a hot flush run through George. While his brain knows that this thing between Alex and him isn’t something anymore, there’s satisfaction in knowing that he still has this effect on him.
“Yes, how to stay private and all that. We always managed very well, no one knew,” George says casually, running a hand through his hair. Hair Alex liked to pull and hold on to while-
“Yes, good idea,” Alex agrees, overly quick.
There’s a longer, awkward pause then in which George doesn’t know what to say. Before Alex got here, he thought it would be easy to clear things up. Alex had said he wanted to say goodbye, so there wasn’t much room for interpretation.
But now that they are here, it feels difficult to talk about it all. George had meant to say things, but now that Alex is here and his body just screams for him to get closer, it’s difficult to remember.
Surprisingly it’s Alex, who breaks the silence, “I want to say that I’m sorry – again. I could say it every day for a year and it wouldn’t be enough for how I ghosted you. I’m sorry that must have been shit.”
Hearing Alex speak it out loud- it makes it hurt even more.
“Why did you do it then? If you knew that it hurt me,” George asks, voice suddenly a bit wobbly.
“I don’t really feel like myself sometimes, with the hormones and stuff,” Alex says, eyes going a bit glossy. “I’m- dysregulated.” He leaves a long, long pause in which George almost fears that he’s supposed to say something but then Alex goes on, “A presentation this late can do strange things to- to the alpha inside of someone. The doctor, Lewis and Carlos thought that it would be better if I stay with the pack and get used to everything.”
“’The doctor, Lewis and Carlos’?” George asks, unable to keep the scepticism from his voice.
Ever since Alex’ appendicitis a few years ago, he’d had a persistent fear of doctors and medicine. It had always cost him copious amounts of coaxing and encouraging to comply with the yearly health check-ups and tests the FIA and the teams put them through. Alex had always done them in the end but not without a struggle. Not without George coaxing and teasing and bargaining.
Did Carlos give him the same security now? Could they built in just a month what had cost them ten years? The trust and closeness of half a life- just- built in a month. It feels incomprehensible to George.
“Yes,” Alex ploughs on, oblivious to George’s confusion and distress. “And after my maturing rut it did really help, to be with the pack. They really help me stay stable and save, not do anything stupid. It really is like a second family now; I’ve gotten to know all of them so much better.”
“And they allowed you to come see me now?” George brings out between gritted teeth. The thought that Alex might have defied Lewis and especially Carlos’ wishes- it’s a headrush. “Or…” He trails off, the possibility too astounding.
Alex’ face betrays that he’s been caught. It cracks open, eyes desperately searching George’s and mouth hanging open just a centimetre, “They- Carlos discouraged it but George- how could I stay away?” He admits, voice cracking at the end.
It’s all that George needs to hear.
If this is the last time, he’ll be able to have Alex like this, he’ll take all he can get and make it stick. Carlos didn’t want Alex to come? George will prove his worries right – damn what everyone else says or thinks. He’ll ruin Alex for any and all sex he’ll have with any omega. He can be just as good – even better.
George surges forward, awkwardly over the distance between them but Alex meets him half way. It’s himself, at least he thinks that, who finally presses their mouths together. The angle is a bit awkward: He’s kneeling on the soft cushions of the couch, one hand clammed onto Alex’ jaw, the other bracing on the backrest.
His lips tingle where there’re touching Alex’ and a moment later, he realizes because he’s pushed them together so hard. But then Alex kisses back, just the barest movement of his lips, and everything else falls into the background.
Alex’ hand comes to rest on the back of George’s neck, gripping tightly while the other buries into his hair. A weird humming sound fills the space between them and it takes George ages to comprehend that Alex is rumbling.
He gasps at the realization, separating them.
But Alex doesn’t let him get far away. He pushes their foreheads together, nuzzling George’s face like he wants to eat him and sighs a low, “Georgie…” When he opens his eyes, there’s a pained look in the darkness of them – like Alex isn’t sure they should continue. “I’m not- I didn’t-” But he doesn’t manage to turn it into a sensible sentence.
“You kissed me, in Japan,” George heaves breathlessly. “You owe me one.” He knows it’s a low move.
Both of them have always been competitive, even in their sex life, and it’s not the first time that one of them had ‘owed’ the other something. On the contrary, for a while it had been George’s only way to not feel ashamed about asking for something he wanted. Because he’d given Alex something that he wanted first, then he too could ask for something without feeling weird about it.
A range of emotions passes over Alex’ face, all of them too complicated for George to name, but at the end of it, he relents, “Okay, yes.” And he leans up to give George’s lips the gentlest, softest kiss. “I missed you…” He groans lowly, eyes closed like he’s savouring ever moment, making all the hairs on George’s body stand up.
And then, unbidden, tears shoot into George’s eyes. “I- Me too, Lex, so bad, I missed you so badly,” He admits, carding his hands through Alex’ hair. He studies his face, the creased brows, the parted lips, the closed but flickering eyelids. Then he bends down to kiss him again.
Somewhere during their slowly heating make out session, Alex’ hands guide George to sit on his lap, legs on either side of Alex’ hips. His hands staying on George’s lower back after as if he’s determined not to let George go. It feels like coming home but at the same time like that home is burning down in front of his eyes.
Alex said he wanted to apologize and say goodbye but right now, it doesn’t feel like that to George. His brain knows that this is the last time but his heart and his body don’t – his heart is beating quickly in his chest and he’s achingly hard.
At the next swipe of Alex’ tongue on George’s, his hips bare down reflexively and both of them moan as their middles touch. George can feel Alex heaving abdomen under his and in the few short seconds that their dicks brushed, he was delighted to find Alex hard and aching too.
“We can-” He offers against Alex’s lips, keeping his eyes closed as he kisses along his jaw. His skin feels rough and uncared for, so unlike Alex but when George breathes in, he finds traces of his aftershave. The smell is so comforting and finally, even with the heaviness of scent surrounding them, George can smell Alex.
Alex hands dig into George’s back, then move down to grab his butt as he groans out, “I don’t know if it’s a good idea…”
George can’t help but scoff a little. It’s very evident what Alex wants by the hard bulge meeting George’s hand when he reaches down. “Am I not good enough for you anymore? It’s what – only omegas now?” George singsongs against Alex’ ear, gently massaging Alex’ dick through his pants to entice him when really, they both know George has already won.
It earns him a high moan and a quick, “Of course not! George, you’re perfect, always were for me. But-” And as if they both need a reminder, Alex hands start kneading George’s ass through his pants, earning him a groan.
It's not an outright admission that he prefers George over Carlos but it’s close enough that George can imagine that it is. And if this really their last time, he’ll pretend through all hell that if society and the culture of their job gave Alex the choice, he’d taken George any moment – even if they weren’t really lovers.
“Show me then. Remind me of how good I can be for you,” George whispers shakily, sucking a hickey under Alex’ ear. He hopes that Carlos will find it there later, a secret message from George to him – a quiet ‘fuck you’. He teethes over the spot, making sure that the blood flows there.
But then Alex’ hands on his butt still. For a moment, George’s breath catches, readying for a rejection.
If Alex still doubts, even after making out with him and feeling him up for over ten minutes, then there’s nothing he can do.
A sudden rush of hate overcomes George. This is all because of fucking Carlos and the pack. It's their fault that Alex is so hesitant with him now. They have lulled him into this bubble of second gender bullshit and made him feel like George isn’t good enough anymore. Not even for a quick and meaningless goodbye fuck… No, if it were to go how they want, Alex wouldn’t have even come by to apologize – to give George the bare fucking minimum.
George detaches himself from Alex’ neck and sits up a little so they are face to face. It pushes their crotches up against each other again and Alex lets out a low hiss. But George is desperate for something else, something more than just sex – he wants to feel connected to Alex one last time. One last time to feel like Alex wants him, unapologetically and fully.
“No one is here, Alex, they won’t judge you for something they don’t know. You said you wanted to say goodbye. Do it properly,” George demands.
He deserves this. He deserves this for the last month where he had to concede again and again to the pack. Alex can be his for at least this last hour – but he’ll only have him fully or not at all.
Alex looks at him for a long time, staying silent and George almost expects him to push him off his lap. But then he nods, slowly at first, then quicker. It looks like a switch was flipped in his brain.
With sudden and unexpected strength, his hands dig into George’s ass and before he can register what has happened, Alex has gotten up and lifted him. George lets out an embarrassing squeal, wrapping both his arms and legs around Alex so he doesn’t fall. But Alex doesn’t even strain to carry him, instead going in quick and sure stride to his bedroom.
The sudden change in pace and the exhibition of Alex’ strength make George feel a little dizzy. It’s a stark reminder that Alex is different now. An alpha. Not just Alex.
George doesn’t have enough time to dwell on it because Alex lays him down onto his bed, nuzzling into his neck and blanketing his body with his. Again, a rush of dizziness overcomes George and he wishes now that he’d eaten something in preparation for this. To be fair, he didn’t really think they’d get this far. He expected a make out session, maybe even a blowjob but not for Alex to carry him to bed.
It’s almost romantic without the context.
Above him, Alex keeps whispering these lovely things in a deep voice, “I missed you.” And he kisses around his neck. “So bad.” His hands slowly undress George, praising him, “I went mad watching you on the podiums and I couldn’t congratulate you. So pretty, so good. You were the best out there, so good.” And it hurts and feels good all at once.
George has to press his eyes together so there’s no risk of him letting a tear slip out and holds onto Alex for dear life.
And then, when Alex is pulling down his briefs, there’s a split second where there’s fear coursing through him. Fear that maybe he’s gotten in over his head in all of this.
Because Alex feels jarringly, shockingly strong above him. His hands feel surer than they ever did and any place he touches, George feels like it’s bruised after. More than once Alex’ teeth scrape his skin and when George looks down, there’s a pink raised line there.
There’s no denying it – Alex is different.
But George pushes through it, locking the fear deep into his brain and vowing to never let it out again. A racing driver doesn’t know fear.
Once Alex is undressed as well and kneeling on the bed between George’s legs, cock out, George chances a look and is relieved that while it looks bigger, it’s not by much.
The knot at the base puts him off though, the fleshy bulb while it is uninflated, looks weird at the base of Alex’ dick where there only used to be softness before. It makes him physically recoil in the memory of the time he had the knot from the toy in him and the panic that followed.
“You can’t knot me,” He rushes out, looking up at Alex with wide eyes and it feels like an admission of weakness. Still, George has to race next week and there’s no way that thing won’t hurt him in his untrained state.
But his worries are quenched quickly. Alex reaches out slowly, gently cradling George’s jaw in his large hands, “Of course I won’t knot you…” He whispers softly with a serious expression on his face.
And in that moment, George really wants to cry because damn, he wishes Alex could knot him. He wishes he was an omega. He wishes all of this would be easier and that this is not the last time he gets to have Alex like this.
But it is and that’s just the reality of his life.
He scoots back a little, turning around to push himself on all fours even though his hands shake. He lowers his shoulders into what he hopes is a pretty arch, displaying his ass for Alex to take. “Come on, give it to me,” He rasps. When it takes Alex a moment to move, he widens his stance and moans, “I need it, Alex… I need you.” In his worst impression of what he thinks Carlos sounds like in bed. Confident. Slutty. Enticing. Everything that George never really was.
ALEX
Alex can barely hear George’s voice, “I need it, Alex… I need you,” Over the rushing of his own blood in his ears. His skin feels on fire and while he almost moves on auto pilot as he collects the lube from the drawer George always keeps it in, his alpha is quiet.
The thing inside of him that begged him to go back to his beta, to speak to him, to touch him, to take all of his worries away is now blessedly quiet. It’s only Alex’ own brain and the knowledge, that this’ll be the last time. A proper goodbye, just like George had said – for old times’ sake.
Alex himself wanted to say so much more – apologize and explain himself more. He hadn’t expected this at all, not for George to initiate sex and also do it so eagerly.
When he thinks about it, he can’t even remember a time where George ever did it like this… It always used to be a delicate dance of George wanting and showing his want in these small gestures that Alex had only just learned to read like an open book.
Apparently, it’s not like that anymore and in a strange way, Alex is glad for it now. Without George’s persistence, he might have never gotten them here. But if this is what George wants to do instead of hearing endless apologies, Alex understands. They must sound vapid to him anyway. Useless. Fake.
The last month had taken more of a toll on George than Alex had anticipated. George had looked dejected and put off, cross in a way that Alex had only known at the beginning of their sexual relationship.
Back then George had almost seemed unwilling to initiate things, which Alex had always taken as a rejection. But when he didn’t initiate, George was also cross because deep down, he did want to sleep with him. He just needed Alex do it for him – give him the last push and afterwards George was as tame as a kitten.
Alex knows he doesn’t deserve that anymore – he deserves all the anger and mistrust he received. Actually, George could have and maybe should have been angrier… But this Alex can also take as a clear sign: George has already moved on, at least emotionally. If he hadn’t, he would have cared more. Fought. Wanted an explanation.
And maybe that’s a good thing. Nothing can change that they need to stay apart for Alex’ treatment to work. This is the only way that they can still be friends and live somewhat normal lives.
It's evident as well, that George is put off by Alex – his knot to be exact.
He looked down on it with a shocked, almost disgusted face and then immediately turned around to be on all fours, a position he usually didn’t prefer – especially not when they are both so emotional – just so he didn’t have to look at it.
Alex will follow his lead on this. He’ll make it so that George can pretend the knot isn’t there and that they are having normal beta sex.
While a mixture of grief, shame and frustration swirl inside of him, Alex blessedly has no issue staying hard. It’s the opposite actually. While he prepares George patiently, he has to hold his knot for most of the time, squeeze it so tightly it hurts, as to not cum just from the clench of George on his fingers.
He’s so tight it shocks Alex a little. He has to put in more minutes of effort than usual and is finally rewarded with George’s impatient begs to finally fuck him, “Come on Alex, I’m not a bloody virgin, give it to me.”
Alex complies quietly, “Of course, Georgie…” And lines himself up with George’s glistening hole.
He gives him his usual seconds to brace himself, only starting to push in when the tendons in George’s back fully relax. Both of them gasps when Alex finally pushes the head of his cock in.
Alex’ eyes roll back into his head and he tries not to bruise George’s hips but the urge to grab him tighter is strong. He feels so good, so good it almost hurts.
“You’re so good, Georgie. Fuck, so tight, so hot…” Alex praises, words dumbly falling from his lips to comfort George. “You feel so good, the best- the best I’ve ever had.”
“Big, Lex,” George whines and it’s not his usual dopey-happy whine, but one from discomfort that Alex hasn’t heard in a few years.
He should have anticipated it, given that George probably hasn’t been with a man in the last months. While the idea of the mystery woman Kimi mentioned still wounds Alex, it also makes him feel even warmer to know that George is still his. His. Always his. At least in this way.
“I know, I’m sorry, I’m a bit bigger now but you take it so well,” Alex praises, caressing George’s sides and then taking his half-hard dick in hand, giving it a few gentle tugs. George’s sensitivity not only makes him hurt easily; it also makes him get overstimulated quickly. By now Alex knows the line he needs to trail on: the places to pause and rest and the places to quicken and push George on. “Take your time, breath in, breath out…” He encourages, feeling George slowly relax around the head of his cock. He makes the keening whines every now and then and his hands flitter over the bedding in obvious search for something. Alex offers him his hand and George takes it with evident gratitude.
Like this, it almost feels like it usually did. All of George’s strange and foreign-feeling aggression and activeness is gone. Instead, George is open and soft, letting Alex guide him and keep him save – even when he’s scared or overwhelmed.
Alex had always admired this about him. Even in the face of people hating and mocking him, he’d always stayed vulnerable. Especially like this, just the two of them, George had always laid himself bare. There hadn’t been secrets or anything between them.
“Have you been with anyone else? Man or woman?” Alex asks softly, thumb brushing over the back of George’s hand. The groves between the fingers feel pronounced, like valleys and mountains.
George takes a bit to answer. From the angle his head is turned at, half buried into the pillows, Alex can see that his eyes are pressed close. He’s evidently struggling to form words but eventually he manages, “Of course not, Lex… Only you.” And the rawness in his voice makes Alex want to set the world on fire.
Only him. No one else did George trust like him – still, even after everything.
Alex isn’t naïve. He knows that George is well and truly on the way of removing Alex from his life but at least now, for just these last moments, it’s all like it used to be. When Alex closes his eyes or doesn’t look down on himself, he can pretend that he’s still normal and that the last months didn’t happen. That he doesn’t have a knot and isn’t an alpha.
“Thank you, Georgie,” Alex hushes, his own voice raw. He doesn’t know what all he’s thanking George for but it doesn’t seem to matter. George buries his face into the sheets and hums lowly.
Instead of forcing more of his possessiveness and emotion onto George, Alex settles for inching his hips forward, slowly pressing deeper into the tight clutch of George’s body. His labour is rewarded by a drawn-out moan and a strangled gasp when Alex finally bottoms out – or, as far as his half-swollen knot will let him.
That is the one moment, where deep down, something in Alex lurches. Something that claws at his insides for their beta. Theirs. His.
Alex takes a deep breath in, dispelling his alpha. He can recognize the urge for what it is: His inability to let George go. But there’s no helping it, eventually, he will have to. So to hell with it, Alex will enjoy this as much as he can.
“It’s better now, isn’t it? When you’re nice and full,” Alex coos, reaching around again to stroke George again.
“Yes!” George almost yells in response, clenching then relaxing around Alex again and giving his free hand a squeeze. In a smaller voice he repeats, “No knot.”
George too wants to pretend that everything is like it was before and Alex won’t ruin it. And anyway, George could be begging for Alex and he wouldn’t do it. Not when he knows that George has never had a knot before.
“I know. I’ll make it so good for you, you’ll barely notice a difference, yeah?” Alex promises softly, leaning down to kiss George’s protruding spine. His skin is incredibly soft under Alex’ touch and he can’t but help scrape his teeth over it. In apology, he licks the red stripe he leaves behind.
“Okay, you can move,” George concedes after a bit more of Alex coaxing him to relax, not without adding, “Slow…”
Alex goes more than slow. He barely moves in and out of George, keeping to a steady grind that honestly has him on the verge of coming again in no time. George seems to take longer though, huffing and puffing a bit until he can finally relax into it.
Afterwards he’s as sweet as ever though. He makes all the prettiest noises and moves back on Alex’ cock like his life depends on it. While Alex would prefer to see his face, like this he can see the muscles on George’s back flex and that’s also a sight so see. His skin ripples tight with every full thrust Alex does and is followed by a low, “Oh Alex…” or “Harder.”
It takes him a bit to follow George’s request, still worried about somehow hurting George or accidentally slipping his knot in, even though he knows George is way too tight for that to happen.
He finally overcomes the worry, blanketing George’s body with his and fucking into him harder. He’s rewarded by gradual higher moans and only babbled words from George’s lips. Alex himself can only rumble and moan in content, burying his face in George’s nape.
George feels so good under him – it’s so right that they are here again, this is how it was always supposed to be. Fuck all the worries and what other people think. George’s smells so good – like cologne and sweat and his skin is so soft.
Alex balances his weight on one hand next to George’s head, reaching the other down to grab George’s weeping cock. He doesn’t actually need to do that much, the force of his thrusts making his hand glide smoothly but every now and then, he thumbs over the pink head.
Every motion makes George writhe even more under him, makes him clench around Alex like a vice and one of his hands frantically clamps around Alex’ wrists.
“Oh God, Alex- Alex, I-” George stutter-yells in obvious helpless extasy.
“Come for me,” Alex demands kissing George’s neck, feeling the skin pull taunt against his lips. Then his teeth. “Come for me Georgie, take what you need.”
Before Alex can even finish his sentence, George comes, hot and wet into Alex’ hand. His body pulls so tight as he comes, every muscle contracting, that Alex is unable to thrust anymore.
He feels caught and cradled in George’s body all at once. Close to coming and at the same time not satiated at all. How could he ever have enough of George? He loves him and he’ll have to let him go, nothing more to show for it than wasted years of secrecy.
It should have all been different.
They could be married by now if Alex would have just been braver in showing what he wanted. George would have never initiated anything more, not openly, but in his eyes there’d always been more. More feelings for Alex. More love. More possibilities than their endless, non-committal friends with benefits. True love and a real partnership. Connection. Forever.
Alex teeth find George’s skin again. They tighten over the lowest point of George’s nape where it meets his shoulder. And then he bites down.
The irony taste of blood washes over Alex tongue, hot and bitter and sticky. His tongue is pressed against George’s skin and his lids flutter wildly with the rush of having bitten his beta. His. His mate.
The thought is as quick as lightning and only then Alex truly realizes what he’s done. How his teeth are stuck in George’ flesh. How his lips have sealed over the wound, tasting his beta’s blood.
Alex dislodges his teeth quickly, staring horrified at the new red marks on before unblemished skin. George’s golden skin tone around the bite still looks pristine but then the first fresh tears of blood well up, staining it red.
Under him, George goes lax, Alex’ body realizes before his brain does. George’s moans have gone completely silent after Alex bit him and there’s a sudden floppiness to his whole body – because he’s passed out. Dead cold.
Alex immediately pulls out, dick already soft from the shock when it hits his thigh with a wet splat. The marks from Alex’ teeth feel like they are staring up at him and so is the blood slowly dripping from the wounds he has left behind as it’s dripping down onto the white sheets.
Alex immediately turns George around and is met with a dazed, rapidly blinking expression of confusion.
“Georgie?!” Alex gasps, wanting to reach out but scared he’ll hurt him again. What the hell had he been thinking? Everything was going well and then suddenly, he’d done this shit. He’d never- never before-
“Lex,” George breathes, confusion and then pain washing over his face as he reaches up to where Alex bit him.
He's hurt him. After everything Alex had done to George, he did this one last thing too. He hurt him. Oh God. It wasn’t even just his alpha taking over it just- happened.
George will hate him now. All he wanted was normal sex and instead he got a violent freak show. Disgusting. Violent. Bad. Alex can’t take it anymore. This is exactly why he shouldn’t have done this – why it needs to end. He’s not good – not good enough for George.
He stumbles off the bed, almost falling and hitting his head but the catches himself. In a frenzy, he dresses and runs around the flat.
His beta needs to be taken care off but by someone who can do it right. The alpha hopes to tide him over with water, pain meds and some random snacks he finds. Someone else will need to do the rest – someone better, someone more capable than Alex.
When he comes back into the bedroom with the supplies, George is still in the same position, holding his shoulder and blinking up at the ceiling.
Alex wants to say so much. Instead, he runs.
Alex thanks his lucky stars when after just a short drive, the door to the apartment opens, “Lewis,” He heaves breathlessly, bracing himself against the doorframe.
“Who’s blood is that on your mouth?!” Nico shrieks, recoiling from where he’d opened the door. The smaller omega’s fresh spring flower scent quickly turns rotting and bitter, making Alex feel even more sick than he already feels. The bitter, metallic taste of George’s blood still coats the inside of his mouth.
The smell and his exclamation quickly bring Lewis to the door, who in similar surprise stares at him, “Alex? Come in.” He ushers Alex inside, closing the door, then asks urgingly, “Who did you bite?”
“George, I-“ Alex goes to explain but he’s cut off in his explanation.
“-Thank God, a beta…” Nico sighs, relief evident in his face. This only serves to make Alex’ alpha growl. His beta isn’t less than any omega or alpha, actually, his beta is much better. The best. Much better than-
Lewis’ eyes flitter between them and he gently asks, “Nico, can you give us a moment, please?”
Nico seems glad to get away from this situation, puttering over to the kitchen while Lewis pulls Alex to sit on the large white couch. They’ve had more than a few pack nights here already – the comfort of that feels dull to Alex.
Only now, that Alex has had a moment to breath and feel, does he realize how out of breath he is. His teeth ache as if he’s bitten stone rather than supple skin. Worst of all is the pain deep in his chest and it takes him until Lewis puts a hand on his to realize, that it’s his alpha. He’s angry and upset at how Alex treated his beta.
“You bit George? Why?” Lewis asks, eyes trusting but there’s a certain authority in his tone that only comes from his alpha.
“We had sex and I- I lost it. It was really good and then suddenly I just- bit him in the neck. I’m not even sure why I did that!” Alex admits in frustration, burying his head in his hands and trying to control his breathing. “I don’t feel very good… My alpha, he’s- angry.”
“What did George say?” Lewis asks urgently.
“He couldn’t say anything, he kind of passed out. And then I ran here,” Alex whispers and there’s a new shame in there. His alpha had guided him to leave the apartment, not risk another bite, but Alex- Alex had of course wanted to stay. Maybe. Or maybe he had wanted to leave too, flee from George’s blood on the sheets and the knowledge that it’s because of him.
Lewis’ voice is sharp when he asks, “He’s alone in his apartment?”
“Yes,” Alex nods, unable to look him in the eyes. Instead, he looks over to where Nico is coming back, giving him a wet towel to clean his face with.
In the last few weeks, he’d not seen too much of Nico, given how often they were on the road, but as Lewis’ mate, there’s a certain and guaranteed level of respect there. Alex thanks him quietly.
“Nico,” Lewis turns to him with pleading eyes. “Can you call-”
“-Fernando. I will,” Nico ends Lewis’ sentence, disappearing again.
Alex can’t help but growl, getting up quickly.
Fernando is the last person he wants around his beta. Someone from the pack should go, someone he trusts, someone gentle and kind and caring and discrete- Charles maybe, yes, someone mated and save and-
Before Alex can do another stupid thing, Lewis’ strong hand reaches for him and pulls him back down, ordering, “You’ll stay right here. I send someone to look after George but you’re not leaving. We’ll discuss this issue.” Alex lets out a low snap at that but sinks back into the couch, obeying his pack alpha. Lewis bares his teeth for a moment, then huffs, “Your alpha was quiet when you were with George? And it was you that bit him. And your alpha wants to take care of him now, yes?” Begrudgingly, Alex nods. Lewis face sinks into a strange expression, like understanding but more grave. His voice is heavy when he says, “My guess is that you’re not just imprinted – your alpha thinks that George is your mate. The symptoms you were having over the last few weeks were mate sickness, not a false imprinting. You bit him because he’s already yours. He’s your mate.”
For a moment, Alex’ whole brain goes blank.
From the moment that he presented, his alpha had always insisted on George. When he’d had his rut, only the assurance that George was far, far away had gotten him to accept Carlos’ help. And even then, he didn’t want to share the nest with him in between rounds of sex.
No, he’d wanted George. He’d called out for him. Thought of him. Dreamt of him.
And afterwards, when Alex had to fight tooth and nail every grand prix weekend to not approach George, he’d almost lost it the second he’d been alone with him in Japan. He’d wanted to drag him away even then, keep him all to himself. Save. Home. Comfort. Family. Mate.
Without him Alex had been cold and lonely, feeling like he was constantly treading water in a tidal ocean. No chance of staying afloat.
It makes sense – horribly – it makes sense.
“Oh…” Alex breathes, after the nausea settles a bit.
“Yeah?” Lewis asks knowingly.
He lets Alex sit with that revelation for a while.
His chest still aches but under all of that, there’s terrible regret. Carlos warned him not to meet George, told him something bad would happen and he didn’t listen. Even the doctor said he needed to stay away and what did he do? The exact opposite.
Alex thought he knew better and now George is paying the price for it.
Before this happened, he really had the hope that they could be friends after this. He hoped once the medication had severed the imprinting, George would forgive him for the radio silence and it would be all good – or as good as it could be with enough time.
George won’t forgive him this. He won’t forgive him for possibly scarring him for life and doing it right after promising to take care of him one last time. He’d done what he always promised not to do.
Silent tears run down Alex face and he tries to dry them off with his sleeve.
“George wanted to sleep with you?” Lewis asks gently, offering Alex a tissue.
But Alex doesn’t take it, instead he growls, “Yes of course, I didn’t force him!” And the hate and anger he feels is both his and his alphas’. Lewis makes a relenting gesture but lets him talk. “He was so insistent that we sleep together one last time and I wasn’t strong enough to say no. I knew I shouldn’t have done that but- I’ve never felt so in tune with my alpha. I was with George and my alpha was silent for once. It felt good, right.”
Lewis stays calm, urging him to take the tissue and then saying, “Our inner alpha or omega is just an extension of ourselves. More carnal and basal, but our wants and desires are the same. They just show it more openly.” Lewis’ face is soft while he speaks and deep down, Alex feels that he gets his struggle more than most people. “It’s not illegal, yeah? A beta and an alpha can marry and live together like mates. You can bite him – if he wants it. It will not be a bond but it could mean the same thing to you. That he is yours and you are his.” Alex can’t help but whine at that, the image too utopic for his reality but it would be perfect. Impossible but perfect. “People may judge you, him too… I will not lie, it might not be easy but given how this is going, I don’t think going through with the medication will be the right call. You love him and your alpha sees him as your mate – you deserve a shot at it.”
The possibility of that and even worse, the realization that Alex destroyed it, sink deep into him.
Lewis is right, George did want to sleep with him. He kissed him first. He begged to have sex and while sex and love aren’t the same thing, the terrifying fact stands now, that George might have wanted more from him all along. Not just friendship and sex – a relationship. A future.
And Alex would have had the option until just an hour ago, when he bit George and then left him bleeding.
“I don’t think that’s a possibility anymore, George won’t want me back after what I did,” Alex croaks gravely.
Lewis shrugs, “I don’t think so. I’ve worked with George for multiple years – he has a pension for suffering and will not be deterred by difficult things if he wants them.” Lewis smiles thinly. “And I think he might want you too, with the way he was watching you all this time… Does he know that you thought you were imprinted on him?”
Alex tries to think pack in the haze but he doesn’t think he told George, just said that his hormones were dysregulated. In the end, it wouldn’t have changed anything, he thinks.
He shakes his head, “I didn’t get that far in explaining things but anyway- I don’t deserve him. I hurt him, all the time in the last months, even before I bit him… He deserves someone better.”
The thought is sobering but also there’s some release in it.
Up until now, Alex had always had a small hope festering inside him that George might see past their difference in second gender. He’d hoped that George would forgive him and that they could persevere the public judgement together and grow from it.
But all of that would have been a burden on George – something he’d have to carry just for Alex. It wouldn’t have been fair. This is Alex’ problem to deal with, not George’s.
“I want to start the medication,” Alex says and even though he feels firm on this decision, his voice still shakes.
Lewis looks at him for a long moment, compassion and pity both strong in his eyes.
Alex gets why Lewis would think so, he got his happy ending after all. Yes, Nico and him struggled too but they are happy now. It worked out for them – there’s no assurance for George and him.
“I should tell the pack then, see that someone is always there for you. Are you okay with me sharing why you’re doing it?” Lewis asks.
Alex shakes his head, “Don’t mention George please… They’ll treat him differently and I don’t want that. Please keep it as vague as you can.”
Lewis only nods.
Besides the obvious privacy that George deserves, Alex himself is also cringing at the thought of his packmates – especially the younger ones – knowing off his struggles. It would start all these difficult conversations that Alex isn’t ready for and he’s sure none of the others are either…
Nico quietly enters the living room again, looking from Lewis to Alex once. “Fernando is with George. He’s doing okay now.”
“Thank you,” Lewis nods with a tired smile.
“Do you want to stay overnight?” Nico offers Alex unexpectedly. His face is a little impassive but his scent is mild and comforting. “We have a few guest bedrooms or you could just nest with us?”
It would be easy to get lulled into this sense of safety and comfort.
But Alex decides, “Thank you but I’ll see if Carlos is okay with me coming over…”
“That’s a good idea,” Lewis smiles thinly.
It's not only that Alex would feel like he’s intruding on them but he can also imagine that Lewis would prefer 1000 things over having an alpha in his den that just bit someone without permission… While he’s always so controlled – his scent barely changing from the comforting one of a dewy morning – even Lewis’ alpha has his limits.
When Alex leaves a few minutes later, Carlos having invited him over immediately, he feels like Lewis and Nico will be talking about him for the rest of the night. He knows that Lewis is judging his decision but no one will get him off this path. It’s the right thing to do, for all of them.
It's like Carlos had always said: Alex is part of a pack now and he’s already inconveniencing them enough – and will even more in the months while his treatment is running. He has to step up: Be a better man and alpha.
Sometimes, Monaco being small is a curse. This evening, Alex is glad for it.
He barely has to drive to get to Carlos’ apartment and is greeted with open arms and a shoulder to cry on. While he still has to explain everything that has happened again, Carlos isn’t smug in his reaction.
There’s no ‘I told you so’ or ‘I’ve you’d just listened to me’ like Carlos would have the right to say. Instead, Carlos bundles him up in his nest and they plan when Alex should start his medication best as to not affect his season. They settle on during the summer break, so that they can weather the first few days together without the pressure of the season looming.
It takes Alex ages to fall asleep but having a plan helps, as well as the soft purr of Carlos next to him.
Notes:
Up next: 'Memories in bite marks and pain'
Chapter 7: Memories in bite marks and pain
Notes:
Thank you all for the lovely comments on the last chapter:) I loved seeing your reactions to this pivotal moment!<3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
GEORGE
George hears the door to his apartment slam shut and flinches at the sudden noise.
His head still feels woozy and any movement he makes causes the room to spin again. The bleeding doesn’t help. That he didn’t eat anything that day doesn’t help. That Alex left doesn’t help.
His eyes slip shut again, darkness replacing the white nothingness of the ceiling in his bedroom. Maybe when he’s awake the next time, Alex will be back to help him get up, clean and dress him. They can eat and talk after, maybe agree on something.
They always do it this way; Alex always takes care of them after they had sex.
When George comes back to the next time, Alex still isn’t back. His thick scent lingers all around but the apartment is silent.
George has to take a deep breath before he finally manages to sit up. The movement makes the bite on his shoulder burn wickedly but when he gingerly touches the bite, the blood that comes back is tacky and almost dried.
His whole body aches like a fresh bruise but especially his lower half is killing him. His hips ache dully and at the same time a sharp sting travels up his spine, reminding him of what Alex and him had done.
It’s not quite regret what he feels – he got what he wanted, didn’t he? That and more.
George’s eyes fall onto his nightstand, phone black and quiet. Next to it is a glass of water and pain medication which he definitely didn’t put there so it must have been Alex. It’s not his usual way of giving them to George: If they had a rough go, he usually hand feeds the pill to him and kisses his throat as he swallows it down. But what is usual anymore? Nothing really.
George swallows two pills down, feeling grateful anyway for this little sign of care.
He stretches his limbs out carefully and while his body hurts, there’s also this awful, hollow feeling in his chest that he can’t quite place. With every breath he takes, he shudders a little and goosebumps pebble his skin. His throat feels tight like he’s about to cry but he’s not sure why. He got what he wanted, even when it wasn’t quite how he imagined it would be. Why does he feel so awful then?
George goes to burry back into the sheets but his hand immediately sinks into the big, now cold, spot of his own cum and he recoils in disgust. His eyes stay trained on the dots of blood sprinkling the white sheets.
Only his rapid breath fills the silence of the apartment.
It feels jarring and confusing to be alone right now. Usually, Alex should be puttering around, make noise, sing along to their shared spotify playlist, let in a bath, prepare some snacks for them but he’s not. George is alone. Alone.
He’s never been left to fend for himself after having had sex with Alex. He’s never been left like this with dirty sheets, cum sticking to his stomach and lube getting tacky between his thighs. Just lube, so Alex didn’t even come.
George sighs deeply, taking another sip of water, ignoring the way his hands shake.
One hell of a goodbye this was… He’s not even sure if he’d wanted Alex to finish given that he’d been effectively passed out but there’s also small voice inside of him that wished Alex had, so then at least all of this would have been worth it. But like this, George just feels empty and useless.
He’s unsure of how long he was out after Alex left. It could have been minutes or an hour, so Alex could well be with Carlos again – get his comfort while George is left with none. For the first time ever, something late hate for Alex curls in his stomach. Ugly and vindicating and scary. He doesn’t want to dwell on it.
George makes it into the shower on wobbly knees and a prayer. His vision goes blurry a few times but he manages not to collapse.
After the quickest shower possible, he finally looks at the bite in the mirror.
It sits low on his nape, where shoulder meets neck. It’s not quite where his scent glad would be, higher at the side of the neck, but it’s close. The individual indents from Alex teeth are dark and red against the pink irritation of his skin. For a laughable moment, he’s glad that Alex had gotten braces as a young teenager or otherwise the bite wouldn’t be this text book looking.
George goes to trace the mark but just the touch of the skin around it hurts like hell.
Now that the adrenaline has had time to wear off, he can really feel how deep Alex’ teeth had sunk into him. Little holes inside of his flesh and muscle that feel strange against the cool air outside of the shower.
George remembers clearly how it had felt: Alex’ mouth clamping over his nape as he was coming, then his teeth pushing into his skin, then them breaking the skin and finally piercing into him like he was made of butter. It’s a feeling like no other and George knows he’ll probably never experience something comparable ever again.
He wonders if it’ll scar, wonders even more if he wants it to or not.
The bite is the most confusing part off all of this. It hurts that Alex left George to fend for himself, sure, but why would he bite him? It was clear for both of them that this was the last time.
Usually, a bite from an alpha is an attempt to mate the other person but this obviously couldn’t have been the goal here. So why did Alex do it? Was it a dominance thing? But why did Alex feel the need to show dominance over him? If he had Carlos lined up, an omega that he could actually mate, why bite the beta he was about to say goodbye to forever?
Maybe Alex in a strange way still does feel possessive over him and doesn’t want him to be with another alpha. With Alex’ alpha mark, no other would want him. If that was his goal, George is sure that he was successful – he’ll never be with another alpha. Never.
The doorbell rips George out of his thoughts and his stomach does a huge flip.
It must be Alex. He often forgets to take George’s key if he goes out to get them something. He probably got him bigger band-aids to cover the bite and something to eat as well, given the late hour and the strenuous activities.
George almost falls over himself getting to the door as quick as he can.
It’s pure relief to open the door and he greets, “Alex-“ But that’s not who stands behind the door. His stomach plumets down and he chokes out as small, “Oh.”
Before him stands Fernando, looking like he jumped from his boat right to stand on his doorstep. He still has sunglasses sitting on his head, his skin looks a little sunburned and he’s wearing shorts, a linen shirt and flipflops. His face is cryptic though, as he’s looking George up and down once.
“Alex is with Carlos,” Fernando finally says, causing another wave of nausea to crash over George. “Nico texted me. I come in? You need someone to take care of you.” And he nods towards the bite that’s still on full display, then lifts a plastic bag in his left hand.
George can feel his cheeks heating up and is glad he even put on a pair of briefs after his shower.
He lets Fernando in, who confidently strolls into his kitchen and unpacks the bag. He pulls out disinfectant, band-aids, scissors and a few other things and arranges them on George’s kitchen counter.
“Get a chair maybe,” He instructs and George is glad to have something to do – someone to tell him what to do.
On his way to getting a chair from the dining table, he pulls on a pair of sweatpants to cover himself up at least a little.
It feels strange to have Fernando off all people here now. He’d hoped for Alex and if he can’t have him, no one else measures up. On the other hand, he can’t be picky now, not with the state that he’s in.
Alpha and omega spit has healing properties and their mating bites usually don’t need medical attention at all. But Alex couldn’t have had much time to lick the wound – if he even knew to do it at all in the frenzy of the moment.
George really should be happy anyone is willing to be here and help him…
He sets the chair down in the middle of the kitchen and sinks down on it. In the meantime, Fernando has prepare everything and gets busy disinfecting the bite. The alcohol burns but Fernando strokes his skin gently and somewhere between both of these sensations, tears shoot into George’s eyes.
“I feel so stupid, Fernando… You and everyone warned me and I-” He breaks off, voice refusing to say the words he feels. Shame mostly, confusion as well.
But instead of rightfully scolding him, Fernando’s voice is soft and low, “Is not your fault, George… Things like this- happen. More often than the public wants to think.” He tinkers around behind George’s back and the ripping of the band-aid sounds. “The placement is-” Fernando holds. “-But we’ll have to wait and see, it might not scar after all.”
Fernando gently places the band-aid over the bite but with the bite being irritated, it still hurts. It hurts on every level – physically, emotionally, mentally. And even under all of that, a basal part of him feels the lack of Alex even more now with the bite there to remind him.
“Do I need- antibiotics?” George wonders out loud, not expecting Fernando to answer but he does.
“An alpha’s bite should heal without it,” He says confidently. “If it doesn’t get better in a few days, go see a doctor.”
When Fernando is done doctoring him up, he guides George to sit on the couch and fills them both glasses with tequila. George doesn’t really feel like drinking but the bitter taste washes away some of his desperation. The alcohol warmth his empty stomach and after a second, silently drunken glass he admits, “I encouraged him. I talked him into sleeping with me when he was unsure and I- I still talked him into it.” He closes his eyes, feeling carefully around the band-aid. “I hate it.”
“It will be okay… I am here now, I should have been before,” Fernando says, voice heavy with emotions. “I should take care of all betas on the grid.”
“Thank you, for being here,” George says earnestly. He means it, deeper than he can express.
“We’ll get you over this,” Fernando reassures him. “This is not the end of anything. You are worth much more than the way he treated you. You have to remember that.” And his dark eyes shine with- something George can’t name.
He wants to believe him though – desperately – but finds it difficult in the throes of all of these huge emotions. How can his past with Alex not define him? How can this not be a mark on his character forever?
With all the struggles in his life, something like this has never happened to him. No one ever had the opportunity to hurt him like this. He’d never let anyone close enough to hurt him this deeply – and he probably never will.
Fernando stays with him until he almost falls asleep sitting up. Another embarrassing situation follows when Fernando herds him into his bedroom and they find the bed still in disarray. George wants to shoo Fernando out but he only leaves once he’s reassured that George will manage to change the sheets on his own and will call him when anything happens or he needs someone.
George tugs himself into the fresh sheets and falls asleep quicker than he expected but he can attribute it to the exhaustion and the tequila.
He only gets one day to recover because the day after that, another plane takes him from Monaco to Brackley to talk about the set ups for Imola and Monaco and to get a few laps on the sim in.
George curses his own workaholic attitude when he had scheduled these meeting so close after the Miami grand prix. He doesn’t feel like seeing people at all, especially not with the way the bite still hurts at every movement but there’s no helping it – it’d be suspicious if he just flacked on all of his responsibilities for the next one and a half weeks. He still wants to.
At least the bite doesn’t seem to get infected – the real last parting gift from Alex.
When George touches down in London, the sky is overcast and dreadful looking. George immediately misses Monaco and the sea and his bed and… Everything he left behind.
He drives from the airport straight to the factory as a concierge service brings his luggage to the small flat he keeps around for occasions like these and when he visits his parents. It’s not home, not by a long shot.
George takes special care when he gets into the factory to greet everyone he meets with a big smile, a handshake and a small conversation about something mundane, his win last weekend mostly. He hasn’t forgotten Fernando’s words. He didn’t repeat them but George was already aware enough that he doesn’t have a contract extension yet.
But he deserves one. He’s been driving his ass off and is fourth in the standings. If this trajectory continues, he’ll be able to surpass Max before the summer break. That deserves an extension.
George semi-contently settles down in the co-working space to answer some emails. It’s a new initiative by the team, ‘encourages collaborative and interdisciplinary communication’ Toto had said as they turned one of the conference rooms into this strange space with both desks, double seaters and armchairs.
George actually doesn’t mind it now – prefers it over his quiet office in situations like these, where his head is loud and his anxiety unruly. It’s an added benefit that he’s being seen working hard, just like any other employee…
One of the younger women from engineering and a guy from PR are already sitting in the room, working quietly on their laptops. George greets them both and then gets a few good hours of productive work in.
At about later afternoon Andrew, one of the higher ups in legal comes by and says hello to everyone. While he greets them all kindly, his eyes linger on George for longer than normal. After he’s left, George checks covertly that his band-aid isn’t visible but it’s not, so he shrugs it off.
That is until Toto sticks his head through the door, asking in an urgent voice, “George, come speak with me in my office please.”
George freezes in his chair and a thousand worries intrude on him.
No one here had been able to see the band-aid so what is this about? Is something wrong with his car? Is there an issue with the upgrades? Has something happened with Kimi?
Or maybe- but he doesn’t want to fear or hope. If this is contract related, surely Toto wouldn’t tell him without his manager there. That can’t be – can it? Maybe something is wrong with the sponsors or an investor? George had been sent to emergency meetings before, smoothing out wrinkles of discontent over a dinner.
George rushes after Toto, almost a little breathless when he closes the door to his office and asks, “What’s going on?” As he’s still desperately trying to act like a normal person.
Toto has sat down behind his desk already, rummaging through the drawers as he speaks, “I don’t want to be blunt, George, but I can smell- an alpha on you. Quite- intensely.” And he looks up, giving George a serious look.
Toto can smell Alex on him.
“Oh blimey, I-” George stutters and feels mortified. He feels like Toto just caught him wanking to the worst kind of porn on his company computer – mortified, horrified, embarrassed to the bone.
“It’s all good,” Toto reassures him too quickly, displaying how uncomfortable he too is. “I have some scent-erasing soap here. You better don’t wait until the end of the day; it might distract the other employees with a designation… Take a shower now, please,” He hands George a discrete and high-quality feeling tin which contains a small bar of pearly blue soap.
“Of course! Thank you, I didn’t- know,” He desperately tries to explain himself, gesturing around awkwardly. Both Fernando and him obviously wouldn’t have smelled it and on the plane where he’d sat in business class no one had looked at him strange either. Even if they did – at least they didn’t really know him.
All the people he’s met in the factory though, they know him. They know who he is – what he is. At least a few of them would have smelled it- The thought is so bad that George can’t entertain if for too long.
He briskly walks the long way to the activity centre where there are showers for the employees to use. It’s his bad luck that as it’s about 6 and many people are leaving to go home for the day. At about every fifth step, there’s a person smiling at George and wishing him a good afternoon or telling him to not work too much.
A few of them just stare at him.
When George gets under the shower, he realizes that he doesn’t even know what of him smells like Alex. Is it the bite? Is it the other places where Alex nipped and kissed him? Is it- God, please no… Alex didn’t come in him but there were still ample of fluids exchanged.
How long would the smell stick? The partial purpose of scent is the marking of territory so George guesses it would be kind of long lasting, but how long?
George scrubs everything three times and leaves the shower with a red face, not only because of the heat. He debates bringing the soap back to Toto but then decides against it. He won’t be able to live with himself if this situation becomes even more embarrassing than it already is.
After that day, George doesn’t go into the co-working space anymore. If he’s at the factory, he keeps to his office or the sim room. Kimi is there a few days as well during the weekend but they barely talk – George somehow can’t look him in the eyes.
He feels so out of it that even his mum makes a comment about it that Sunday, as they are standing in the kitchen.
“Are you well, darling?” She asks in a careful voice but her eye betray that she’s beyond worried. Outside, George’s siblings are kicking around a football and laughing loudly.
“Yes, mum,” George promises, unable to keep the exhaustion from his face. “Just a lot going on…”
When she pulls him into a hug as he’s about to leave, he has to grit his teeth against the pain as her arm presses on the bite.
That’s the moment where it really sinks in for George, that he too is forever changed.
The bite may scar or not, but even when all the physical aches are gone – the bite, the bruises and the twinges of pain – Alex will always be a part of him.
Imola brings about a new type of mortification that George had mentally prepared for but couldn’t brace against fully.
He has to tell Aleix what has happened since they have to find a way for the seatbelt not to press onto the still healing wound. It’s been almost two weeks and while it’s not infected, Alex has bitten deep enough for the pain to last.
It's a small comfort that Fernando joins him for the conversation and helps him supplement parts of what happened as George goes through it.
Aleix takes it all in with an increasingly stern face, not interrupting George once. When it’s done, he nods at both Fernando an him, promising to add extra padding to the seatbelt in an inconspicuous way. That’s all – no judgement and no pressing questions.
It's a small relief because George’s mortification doesn’t get much better when the driver’s parade commences.
He sees Alex for the first time – around him tightly coiled is the pack, like a living mass. Whenever George looks into their direction, someone is standing in his line of sight, blocking Alex from his view. He can catch though that Carlos is sticking close to Alex side.
They must know then.
This inkling only gets stronger when George catches Lewis looking at him a few times. He feels himself going bright, tomato red and he hides behind Fernando and Yuki.
Jack is long gone, replaced, just as he predicted and it leaves enough conversation material for the betas for the weekend. Even through all of this, George feels that Fernando really is trying to better take care of them. He takes them out to dinner after a frustrating Imola grand prix and when George ignores everything, empties his head, life is almost close to bearable.
ALEX
Alex’ skin feels thin all weekend.
Carlos forced him to go to the same doctor again, explain what happened and the doctor confirmed, using the results of the blood test, that Alex is indeed not suffering from a false imprinting but a phantom mating.
It doesn’t change the course of action all that much – Alex still needs to take the same medication, just a higher dose, beginning at the start of the summer break. Until then he’s supposed to stay away from George and keep his meditation up.
Strangely enough, the doctor sees a little hope in Alex biting George – because it had been Alex, not just his alpha taking over. Alex doesn’t really understand what the difference is and can’t really muster up the energy to care.
Sometime before Imola, Lewis calls in a pack meeting and tells them about it, excluding any too indicative details of the person Alex bit.
Alex isn’t there for the meeting but afterwards, a suspicious number of scented items and comforting messages find their way to him. Just a day after, a small pack get-together assembles at Carlos’ place and he lovingly but firmly forces Alex to participate. The pups and the older people from the pack aren’t there and so it’s a very comfortable group for Alex – if it weren’t for the constant ache to check in with George.
He's heard from Carlos who heard it from Lewis who heard it from Nico who heard it from Fernando that George is recovering well but this game of telephone doesn’t really curb Alex worry.
George looks thinner in Imola.
While the pack is always surrounding Alex, he still catches a glimpse of him here and there and the way he looks- it makes Alex ache. The guilt and shame are made even worse when Toto approaches him later on the Sunday after the race.
Alex is already on his way out of the paddock and at least for the media, he played everything cool. Yes, being an alpha is great. No, he’s barely struggling anymore with his presentation. Yes, he’s enjoying all sides of being an alpha, it’s the best thing that ever happened to him.
Lies, lies, lies.
Thankfully, most journalist have deserted the paddock by now while the teams are busy packing everything up.
“Hey Toto,” Alex greets, trying to decipher Toto’s scent as he gets closer.
The older alpha usually smells sweet and herbal like chamomile, calming always in his dominant but fatherly presence. Now his smell is a bit sharper, almost acidic and bitter, making Alex’ hackles rise. So does Toto’s arm, when he puts it around his shoulder.
From the outside it will look like they are having a polite chat – maybe joking around – but Alex feels how Toto’s fingers dig into his arm and his sour scent rubs onto him.
Since they are almost a similar hight, Toto doesn’t have to bend down much to speak into his ear. His voice is calm, almost friendly but his words are not, “You are playing a very dangerous game, Alex… George has a good name at Mercedes, this- whatever it is that you are doing could taint it all. This could be very detrimental to his career and reputation so I’m asking you to stay away from him.”
“What? How-” Alex can’t help but stutter, shocked that Toto knows about them. How- George would have never told him.
Toto squeezes his shoulders once more, then letting go, looking down on him with well concealed anger, “It wasn’t hard to guess with the way he stunk off you. The whole factory had to smell it.” And he scrunches up his nose in evident disgust.
Alex wants to chastise himself, even more than Toto already does. Because of course his scent would stick to George after he’d licked and kissed every part of him and had been inside of him. Hell, the bite alone was probably enough to scent George so thoroughly that he’d need scent erasing soap.
Alex hadn’t even thought about that and apparently Fernado hadn’t either when he helped George recover – to whatever extend that had been – it hadn’t been enough.
Evidently, George had went into the factory shortly after still smelling discernibly of Alex.
And deep down, Alex feels a sickening satisfaction at the thought. Him. His. For all other alphas and omegas to detect – stay away, this one is already claimed. This beta is Alex’ and no one else’s. Touch and you will regret it.
A low growl claws its way out of Alex’ throat and Toto does look a little surprised at that.
Toto isn’t part of the grid pack and even though he is older, Alex’ alpha doesn’t feel the need to heed his wishes. Actually, he dislikes it very much that Toto of all people is trying to play white knight for George when he’s refusing to give him a very deserved contract extension and-
“My God, Alex,” Toto tuts, repugnance dripping off of every word. “Control yourself… It’s enough that you embarrassed him but now you’re also embarrassing yourself.”
The realization washes over Alex in a cold, sickening wave and just like that, his alpha fades into the background again as Alex tries to calm his breathing.
He'd embarrassed George. Embarrassed. Not only did he possibly scar him for a long time, he’s also embarrassed about it. Sees himself as a failure for being bitten by Alex. Does he regret it? Not just the bite but also sleeping with Alex? And not just that last time but all the times before as well?
Alex couldn’t fault him for it now. He must think Alex is some kind of beast, worried he’ll jump him at every turn. He probably sent Toto to make it abundantly clear that he doesn’t want anything to do with him anymore. Rightfully so.
During all the things they’ve done as adults, Alex has only ever wanted to empower and support George, make him life his wildest fantasies in a save space but now he’s destroyed it for both of them. Maybe forever.
“You get it now, don’t you?” Toto asks slowly, voice not malicious but he seems satisfied with a job well done.
Besides the shame and embarrassment Alex himself feels now, there’s also this simmering disgust under his own skin. Disgust that George must be feeling at him too. Disgust at the alpha inside of him that makes him more creature than man.
“Toto, you’re not trying to steal my driver, are you?” James chipper voice unexpectedly breaks the unbearable tension. His hand comes to rest on Alex’ arm with gentle firmness.
Even though James is a beta and therefore can’t really smell the intricacies of the conversation that just happened, he’s always been remarkably sensitive to social cues.
Toto takes a step back, falling into relaxation once more but his eyes still trail back to Alex a few times as he talks, “I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m just trying to keep my driver save.” Again, a low growl escapes Alex at the pure mention of George being owned by Toto. He stays unimpressed, face pulling into a slight sneer, “But he’s in your good hands now, as you already assured me.” And he walks off like he owns the place.
There’s a strange, prickling numbness overtaking Alex’ limbs. It feels like all the nerves in his body have been turned off, only the cool breeze blowing past and James’ warm hand.
“Come, Alex, we have something to discuss,” James’ hushes and pulls him long back to the Williams hospitality. Alex follows him like a robot.
James sits him down in one of the chairs in his small office, giving him a cold water bottle from the fridge as he too, sits down behind his desk. The dampness of the bottle feels soothing again Alex’ prickling skin and he presses the cold plastic into his forehead, willing it to remove all thoughts from his brain.
After the more or less gentle scolding both Lewis and Nico, then Carlos and later his mum gave him, Toto Wolff is the last person he thought would approach him – in the paddock after a race no less – to tell him what an idiot he is for biting George. And he didn’t even have the wherewithal to explain that at least he’ll do something about it. He’ll take his medication and actively working on controlling his alpha – what else can he be expected to do?
James clears his throat then and Alex looks at him through the distorted blur of the bottle, “This endless pining after George needs to end. It’s been months, Alex, it’s time to accept the new reality.”
Alex freezes at that.
He's never told James about George and him. Sure, George had visited him in Williams often but they were very close friends after all, so it hadn’t been strange or an indication towards anything more.
He did tell James that he’ll start his new medication for the hormonal imbalance during the summer break – he had to, given the possible side effects and accommodations he would need. But Alex obviously kept it vague when it came to the exact reasons, too embarrassed to admit his issues to his boss.
So how could James know all of the sudden, that there had been something between George and him? Toto’s words come back to his mind and new anger rises in him at the older alpha’s brazenness.
But James gives him an unexpected answer a moment later, explaining over intertwined fingers, “You should stick with Carlos, that’s what him and I agreed upon in this matter. A beta could never assist you in a way that an omega like Carlos can. Carlos is the save person to stick with in all of this.”
Alex head feels like it’s been dunked into ice cold water.
He removes the water bottle from his skin, staring at James’ impassive face.
“You and him ‘agreed upon’ what?” Alex repeats dumbly. He’s heard but somehow, he doesn’t register what it means.
“I asked Carlos to look after you of course, during and after your presenting rut. It’s convenient to have an alpha-omega driver pair for that exact reason,” James says as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. “You understand, surely, the PR nightmare this could turn out to be for Williams and Mercedes both. If it came out that an alpha driver was going after a beta one- That’s a career ending scandal, which Carlos of course understood and I hoped you would too.”
“Did Carlos tell you-” Alex goes to ask but he cuts himself off.
What did Carlos tell James? Did he tell him how desperate and pathetic he was during his rut? How out of control? How he begged for George? How all these months it has cost him everything to stay away and he still failed?
“I convinced him to keep me in the loop, so to speak,” James shrugs, as if that explains anything. “He’s very sensible and he understands what his responsibility in all of this is, especially as the pack omega. ”
Responsibility.
The pieces take embarrassingly long to fall into place inside Alex’ head but once they do, he can’t help see the bigger picture they form.
Carlos hadn’t wanted to help him – James had to ask him. Had to remind him of his duty as the pack omega. Had to convince him. Had to talk him into not only revealing Alex’ secrets but also sleeping with him to reap the advantages of an omega-alpha driver pairing.
Alex’ stomach rolls dangerously.
“I understand,” He chokes out, bile rising in his throat. “Can I go now?”
“Yes, please stay at the Williams hotel though. No George or Mercedes,” James says easily, oblivious to Alex’ distress as he turns towards his computer. But is he oblivious? Or does he just not care, not about Carlos or Alex or George-
Alex flees the room.
He grateful for the years he’s spent at Williams because he finds the next restroom even with his body already recoiling and regurgitating at the information he’d just learned. It's a margin of a second when he enters the stall, bows over the toilet and chokes out every last bit of his stomach’ content until it’s only acid, acid, acid…
His throat and eyes burn and Alex just hopes that the deserted state of the hospitality means that no one can hear his breakdown. Because once his stomach has settled, his body still shakes with disgust and desperate tears.
This is all Alex’ fault.
If he hadn’t presented stupidly late, then James would have never asked Carlos to do something he probably hadn’t wanted to do in the first place. Carlos had never shown much interest in Alex back when everyone thought he still was a beta. Yes, he’d been friendly but they had been far from a sexually charged relationship.
If Alex hadn’t presented without a warning, he wouldn’t have lost George to the insurmountable chasm that’s between them now. If Alex had just listened to George and went to see a doctor, they might have detected the change in his hormones earlier. They could have prepared for the presentation. They could have talked and maybe, if given enough time and space, George still would have chosen to stay with him.
Tugged right under his ribs, Alex’ alpha feels painfully passive. Like now that he brought all this pain and ruin onto Alex, his job is done and he can just be silent.
In the last few months, his alpha was always there, next to Alex’ own thoughts, wants and urges. He wanted carbs and protein, a den, items scented by their packmates, to cuddle with the pack, roughhouse with the other alphas, Lewis’ approval, Carlos’ closeness and above all: George. George all the time. His beta. His mate. His best friend.
What Alex had wanted had often been the exact opposite: He wanted his old life back, to race as normal, to be alone and make sense of his life without the constant noise of people around. He still wanted George but not in that desperate primal way his alpha did. No, he wanted George in the baritone of his voice, the chuckle of his laugh and the strong touch of his delicate hands.
Somewhere during the process of meditating every day, these two perspectives have gone all mixed and muddled up. Alex doesn’t know anymore what he wants and what his alpha wants.
Maybe that had been the goal all along but right now, it doesn’t make him feel more secure. It makes him feel anxious and confused – like neither Alex nor his alpha exist anymore, just this strange person in between that he doesn’t know or understand.
A whine of frustration builds in Alex’ throat and together with the anger at how unfair his life is, it gets him up and out of the bathroom.
Out of the two people he desperately wants to speak to, only one is also staying in the Williams hotel – the only place Alex is allowed to go to this evening.
“Hey Alex,” Carlos greets him with a big smile on his face and seemingly not surprised at Alex showing up. He’s shirtless and glowing in the dim light from the hallway but when he takes a breath in, he frowns and asks, “What happened?”
Alex gestures to go inside, given that the conversation he wants to have is not really appropriate for the hallway…
As he goes past, he’s careful not to accidentally brush against Carlos’ naked chest, even if it’s difficult in the small hallway to Carlos’ room. The thought of touching him after what he just learned makes Alex feel even more sick than he already feels.
Alex lets himself sink down into the singular chair that is standing next to the window and Carlos sits down on the bed a few meters away. From the fresh and powdery smell in the room, Alex guesses that Carlos has just showered and is generally in a very good mood.
Or he was, until Alex came in. Now he looks at him, confusing clear in his eyes at the distance between them and Alex’ serious face.
“I talked with James,” Alex finally says, watching the almost imperceptible tightening pinch of Carlos’ face. The next words feel almost impossible to speak but Alex sees no way that he can exist any longer without asking, “Carlos, have you been sleeping with me because he told you to? Did you lie to me when you said you wanted it?”
Carlos takes a sharp breath in at that, both his arms and legs crossing and his eyes turn away from Alex’ to look out the window.
Where his face was unreadable before, it goes through a range of emotions in quick succession now: surprise, anger, indecisiveness, indignation and finally, steel cold determination. While Carlos’ scent doesn’t catch up that quickly, there’s a strange tinge to the vanilla notes now, not quite rotten but not pleasant either.
Finally, Carlos answers coolly, “It’s not an easy answer.”
Not an easy answer. So James did ask Carlos to do something he didn’t want to and all this time, Alex had slept with him like a blind idiot. Not only during his rut but also that one time after. He’d always come to Carlos in the trust and comfort that at least he wanted Alex how he was, alpha and knot and all.
Which is not true. Carlos had to be talked into sleeping with him at best and at worst, James had misused his power as their boss to force Carlos to obey for the betterment of the team.
Another wave of nausea hits Alex and he has to keel over to control himself, heaving out a quiet, “Oh God-”
“-Don’t panic,” Carlos cuts him off quickly, coming to kneel in front of Alex in the chair and holding his wrists. His eyes are earnest for the first time during this conversation as he says, “No one forced me to be with you. He- encouraged me, sure, but I also did it because it was good for the pack and I wanted to. We’ve been over this: I wanted to sleep with you.”
“But James said you two ‘agreed upon’ you being with me instead of George. That’s not exactly a free decision for either of us if you talked with our boss about it like it’s another strategy decision,” Alex says indignantly, pulling himself from Carlos’ grip.
Carlos sits back on his haunches, his jogging pants pulling obscenely tight over his strong thighs. His scent has mellowed a little but when Alex really inhales it, there’s a strange sad tinge in it – bitter and cold like grief.
“A blind man could see that you two were- something other than friends. George was at Williams all the time, everyone at the team knew you liked to stay in the same hotels, you’ve been close for ages…” Carlos swallows visibly but his voice cracks anyway as he speaks, “James brought it up when you presented. He was worried that your alpha would immediately imprint on George – which he was right with of course.” A stinging feeling goes through Alex. Everyone had known apparently but George and himself… “James was worried about what could happen and what the press would say. So I agreed to jump in for your first rut, for the benefit of the team.”
“So there weren’t any pre-emptive expectations?” Alex asks urgently because he almost can’t believe that that conversation happened with the appropriate time and sensitivity. James and Carlos could have only had a few minutes to discuss everything after they realized that Alex had presented and gone into his maturing rut.
Carlos gives a bitter laugh in answer to Alex’ question, spitting out, “Of course there were expectations, I’m an omega, Alex, we were biologically designed to be fucked.”
Alex rears back at that, almost falling over, chair and all.
He’d never seen it from that perspective and hadn’t expected Carlos to. He’d never said a word about feeling used or marginalized for being an omega. Not even in passing or during different situations.
If Alex would have had to guess, he’d always said that Carlos was proud of being an omega and that he would chose it over being an alpha or beta any day. But apparently not.
Carlos gets off the floor with a sigh and takes a shirt from his suitcase, pulling it over his head and tussling up his still drying hair. “Sorry, I’m being mean for stupid reasons…” And he sits back down on the bed with a contemplative face.
Alex would like to say something – anything to make this easier for Carlos but he doesn’t really know how. He always felt like they had been honest with each other – at least he had been – but now it all feel strange and wrong.
“Would I have done this without James’ encouragement? Maybe not, okay? I’m not sure,” Carlos finally shrugs. “But when Lewis and I talked after your rut we both thought it would be better for you and the pack if I take special care of you.”
“I’m sorry,” Alex burst out, trying to convey much more than that.
Carlos waves him off, “Don’t be, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know better and you were in a shit situation…”
Alex hums in acknowledgement. This whole situation is just one big mess… He wishes he’d acted differently and he wishes Carlos had trusted him enough to tell him that it wasn’t just his own wishes but also James’ for them to sleep together. He might have made a different decision then – or not, but who’s to say?
Alex remembers another thing then – when he thinks about trust – and it almost stings more.
“What else did you tell James? He told me that you’re keeping him ‘in the loop’,” Alex asks, unable to keep the accusation from his voice.
“I told him about you kissing George in Japan and then that you bit him last week. I told him that that’s why you’ll be starting the medication and why we’ll still be sleeping together,” Carlos counts down, matter of fact and detached like he’s recounting his dinner plans.
Alex recoils into himself, asking, “Why did you do that?! That was- I thought the things I tell Lewis and you stay between us- or in the pack at least…”
God, he’d been so naïve. He thought and trusted that the pack meant that he had another family but it seems he misunderstood this as well.
“They are! They do but I-” Carlos quickly goes to reassure him but he looks like he knows how empty his words sound. He starts again after a short pause, “I’ve made a few bad decisions lately,” He admits dryly, embarrassment well-hidden under his stoney face but Alex knows him too well by now. His eyes are sad – regretful. “And I’m very sorry for them. I shouldn’t have told James as much as I did but I just- I thought that it would help me gain his respect as the new driver in the team.”
“He’s been salivating over you all of last season,” Alex exclaims in disbelieve.
He remembers all too well when James first told him that Williams and Carlos entered negotiations after Lewis’ surprise move to Ferrari was announced. James had been frothing at the mouth at the possibility of getting a multi-race winner straight from Ferrari.
And Alex of course can give Carlos his dues, he’s a better driver than Williams deserves but that’s exactly the reason why Alex didn’t expect him to have to defend his seat or prove himself.
“I’m not getting younger,” Carlos says, eyes straying over to the window again where the skyline is reflected in his dark eyes. “Ferrari kept Charles and I on very tight leashes and expected us to be highly competitive – omega against omega. But lately they talked about me aging and if I wanted pups, I’d have to have them soon. No matter what I did or what commitment I showed, it was never enough.” He looks down into his own lap, fiddling with the strings of his jogging pants. “I guess I overdid it at Williams. I wanted to give James’ his money’s worth for believing in me when no one else did.”
Alex goafs at that, gesticulating, “But the offers from Audi and Alpine and-”
“-There were no other offers,” Carlos says, voice cutting as a knife. “There was Williams or reserve driver at Red Bull. And I wanted to drive,” He huffs in frustration. “I don’t want kids or even a family – all I ever wanted was to drive.”
Alex stays silent after that.
It still fucking hurts that Carlos told James all his sensitive information but having it all laid out in front of him, he can only think, “This is all so fucked up. This whole second gender thing is bullshit. All it’s gotten us is pain and trouble – I’ve never felt more embarrassed in my entire life.”
The memories from his rut flash in front of his eyes, then the horrible landslide of articles praising him for being an alpha and then George’s empty eyes when he first looked at him after.
And just today, how both Toto and James acted like he was some sort of wild thing – how embarrassing for him. How fucking embarrassing that now everyone seems to know about his inappropriate and unfulfilled crush on his beta best friend. A crush that went so far that even his boss had realized that it would lead to an imprinting…
“I wouldn’t have expected that from James and I feel like an idiot now,” Alex admits solemnly. Off all the things he’d always thought that he knew, he thought that he understood James. He thought he was a straight up guy and a good leader. Another horrible thought crosses Alex mind and he asks, “Are there other things that are expected from you? Does he make you drive slower for me?”
Carlos gives him a loud, earnest laugh at that, “No, I promise, it was the only thing. Me and the car just don’t go well together at the moment.” He sobers a little but still smiles at Alex, “I knew how you would react if someone told you… You’re not that kind of alpha – not that kind of person to take stuff lightly. With the way you love George-” He breaks off, looking to the side again and Alex knows that this is the end of anything sexual that ever was between them.
They won’t ever sleep with each other again and deep down, Alex knows that he won’t need it anymore. He’ll weather all the horniness, pain and knots at inopportune moments if it means respecting Carlos when he can’t do it himself. He’ll throw the whole season away if it means staying true to himself. If it means doing this the right way. For Carlos, for George and for himself.
“You’ll find the right alpha, I’m sure you will, Carlos. You’re an absolute catch – the whole package deal,” Alex promises and he means it. For all his faults, Carlos is a good person and will make a great mate some day.
Carlos lets himself fall back onto the bed, huffing out a dramatic sigh and tuts, “Ah, maybe my next teammate if he’s not imprinted on someone already.”
Notes:
Finally some more insight on Carlos' motivations... I honestly didn't expect Carlos to be perceived to be as much of an antagonist as he was but I hope that this melts at least some of your hearts for Carlos:D
Next up: 'Crash and burn'
Chapter Text
GEORGE
Monaco brings with it good and bad things alike.
George has to sleep in his apartment again and while by now, any trace of Alex is gone – the sheets he threw away, he cleared out the air for days, he collected the last of Alex’ clothes and donated them – it still feels strange to be there. It’s his own home and yet- it doesn’t really feel like it anymore.
Luckily for him, Mercedes stuffed his calendar full with media obligations that sufficiently distract him.
Unluckily, that also means he has to spent a lot of time with Kimi.
Off all the different things he expected Kimi to be – arrogant, shy, distracted, maybe even a little dumb – he didn’t expect him to be this much of a yapper. All the time, no matter what they do or where they are, Kimi finds someone to talk to. Not often is George actually that person but he has to hear it anyway, how Kimi talks to the PR people, team personal, the make-up people, strangers… It’s just constant talking.
Today his victim seems to be Susan from PR, an older omega that has been in the team since before Lewis joined in 2013. She’s gracious about it, nodding and smiling, asking questions and occasionally ruffling Kimi’s curls like he’s her pup.
George has to move a little closer to them as the light is being adjusted and so he hears Kimi hush, “I think they’ll mate in no time,” With a conspiratorial but obviously implicative voice. “I saw Alex come out of Carlos’ hotel room in Imola and there were a lot of emotions in the air…”
“What were you doing in the Williams hotel?” George asks without thinking about it.
Jealousy burns bright hot through him. He expected it to get better now that Alex is gone for good from his life but somehow- somehow it feels even worse.
George had still been nursing his bite during Imola and while he can leave it without a band-aid now, it feels too fresh. Too soon.
Did Alex plan on biting Carlos this soon after? Was there not like- decorum that meant he had to wait at least a few weeks or months before biting another person? Maybe it didn’t mean anything because George is a beta. Maybe all those rules for conduct and honour only pertain to relationships between alphas and omegas – that would explain a lot.
Kimi turns towards him, side eying him but then saying casually, “Visiting Ollie of course. Haas and Williams used the same hotel.”
Nice, good for them, really, George isn’t jealous at all. Never. Wouldn’t dream off it.
“So you’ve kissed and made up again?” He asks, remembering what Alex told him shortly before it happened. He’s not sure if he’s about to offer advice – he doesn’t even know how much Kimi knows of Alex and him – or if that advice would even be wanted.
The way Kimi’s face falls into a shocked and caught out expression makes him wish he didn’t say anything at all. “I don’t know what you mean,” He stutters, tongue stumbling over the English words.
“It’s just a phrase for ‘you’re friends again’… I heard you had a bit of a disagreement,” George tries to wave it off and he sees Kimi breath a sign of relief.
“I guess,” Kimi says, smiling at him like all is well again.
In many senses, Monaco is a repetition of Imola for George.
The practices go well and outside of that the team doesn’t behave differently. It puts his mind at ease about the incident at the factory, that maybe not as many, if any at all, had smelled Alex on him.
Toto as well treats him as fatherly and kind as ever. George had kept the scent erasing soap though of course he won’t have much reason to use it anymore – but you never know…
In the media pen he gets asked with increasing frequency if he’s worried about not having a contract extension yet – he says no but thinks yes.
Yes, he is so worried that it keeps him up some nights. Aleix gives him homeopathic medicine, full body relaxation massages, makes him meditate and manifest until his head swims with it. It doesn’t change that George still is without a contract.
When George finally hears Marcus’ voice, “Radio check,” Before it’s lights out, he’s beyond relieved. If he gets through this grand prix and Spain next, he’ll have a week free in which he plans to go to Greece with his family. It’s only a small vacation but he desperately needs it.
He'll have to tell them about the bite then but that’s a problem for future George.
“Radio check,” George answer back and then everything goes quiet for the formation lap.
Since he absolutely bottled the qualifying, he’s starting from p12 but the car set up isn’t too bad. If this were any other race than Monaco, George would have confidently said he’d get a point or two.
When the lights go out, George’s brain goes blank and he only drives. It feels good to leave everything else behind. In his car he’s just George, not beta or son or friend or ex-situationship. Just George.
Somehow, with a good strategy and luck when it comes to his pit stops, he makes it to p11 by the half of the race.
“Albon ahead of you, +0.4,” Marcus’ voice sounds. “Kimi behind with DRS, +0.5. Looks like a DRS train till the end.”
George grits his teeth at the mention of Alex. “We’ll see about that,” He radios back. Off all people, he won’t let Alex stop him from getting the points Mercedes deserves – even if it’s just one.
The next few laps are a one hell of decreasing distance with no opportunity to overtake. George tries at every corner, not only to get past but also to goad Alex into making a mistake that might help him overtake. He actually tries it a few times into the Nouvelle chicane but every time Alex slams the door shut on him.
The constant near-misses are grating, not only mentally but also physically. Ahead of Alex, Carlos is struggling on his old tires with front wing damage and Marcus tells him, “They have Alex covering for Carlos, +0.25. If you get past him, you could take p9 from Carlos as well.”
“Understood,” George radios in, so out of breath he can almost not understand himself.
Alex and then Carlos. Alex and then Carlos.
He tries a fourth time in turn 10 but again there is no getting by Alex. There are less than 10 laps, if George doesn’t manage, neither Kimi nor him will get point. No points – no contract.
La Rascasse is his undoing.
Just before the final corner, George finally has enough speed to lunge past Alex in the tight passage. He’s late on the breaks which might have worked if Carlos wasn’t there, his rear wing right on Geore’s front wing.
The crash almost happens in slow motion.
It’s not high speed or high impact but George’s car pushes Carlos’ into the barrier. Carbon crunches again carbon and the splintering feels deafening in George’s ears. Both of them come to a startling halt against the barrier as the cars that were behind them drive past.
“Are you okay George?” Marcus’ alarmed voice sounds over the radio.
The impact pressed all the air from George’s lungs but he manages, “I’m okay. Sorry.”
“That was not your fault, George,” Toto’s stern voice comes over the headphones. “Carlos was driving dangerously slow, we’ve reported it to the stewards.”
Ahead of him, Carlos is already clambering out of his car but he seems fine. Next to them, a screen shows bright red. Deep down, George knows that this wasn’t Carlos’ fault – at least not fully. “Thanks,” He radios back anyway and the goes to get out of his car as well.
The nose of his car is almost fully scrunched up and the odd angles of the wheels give him the bad feeling that his suspension is fucked. This means the team will have to assemble a whole new car for him before Spain…
A hand comes to rest on George’s forearm as he struggles to get the steering wheel back in. He looks up, expecting a track marshal but instead it’s Carlos, helmet still on, who offers him a hand.
George instinctually rears back, almost falling off over the halo like an idiot. Carlos looks up at him, his eyes only visible through the small slit in his visor – dark and round and unreadable.
George leaves the steering wheel, clambers out of his car at the side away from Carlos, jumps over the fucked-up barrier and lets the marshals lead him back to the pits.
Kimi gets the point that should have been George’s and Alex get those that would have been Carlos’. The stewards deem the crash a racing incident and neither of them gets a penalty, though in the steward’s office they both have to listen to a long speech about the dangers of Monaco – as if they both don’t know…
When they are both allowed to leave, Carlos calls after him, “Wait, George! Can we-”
But George keeps walking. He doesn’t need an apology and he won’t apologize either. He isn’t even angry or anything, just exhausted and unhappy overall. He doesn’t want to speak with Carlos, not now, maybe not ever.
Lando wins the grand prix and seeks George out specifically to invite him to come out to party later. Usually he just shoots a test – if he even does that… But he’s breathless and smiling, “Sorry about your race mate. Come out to with us anyway, yeah?” As he leans in the door to George’s driver’s room.
“Yeah okay,” George conceded. He’s never been personally invited to come out and he’s not sure why Lando does it now but he wants to reward that behaviour.
It's a pathetic admission but without Alex, George has gotten a bit lonely.
Before, he had a built-in best friend, almost always traveling where he was and down to do anything. If he was having dinner alone – Alex would join him. Free time between sessions? Alex was always there for a chat. Bored of his workout? No trouble, Alex needed to get one in too. Feeling homesick and uncertain at night? Fret not, here’s a warm body that holds you.
George still has other friends of course – close friends even – but most of them aren’t into the intricacies of Formula 1, live in London and are betas. They wouldn’t understand what he’s going through and even if they would just listen, it wouldn’t be enough to fill the particular space that Alex left behind.
“Mint, I’ll text you the details,” Lando chippers and then slouches off, leaving behind a cloud of scent, thickening up the air in George’s drivers’ room.
That’s the comforting thing about Lando: He never asks how George is and just fucks off once he's done with him. There’s no pretence or fakeness, just Lando’s short attention span and the fun that it can bring.
By the time that George enters the club around 11 at night, that fondness for Lando has reduced a bit. Lando merely shakes hands with him enthusiastically and then gets pulled in again into the drowning sea of admiring people.
George tries not to take it personally and instead chats with a few people he loosely knows, drinks more than he should and dances in a way that’s only possible in a club that doesn’t permit phone usage. Some time, Yuki and Pierre join him and then it’s even more entertaining.
The two of the bicker and joke relentlessly and George mostly manages to ignore the loud voice in his head screaming, ‘They are alpha and beta, why does it work for them and not for Alex and I?!’.
The answer is easy: Pierre and Yuki never fucked. They became friends when both had already presented and how Yuki speaks about it, he can accept it when Pierre choses the pack over him. George could never do that, not even now.
Long after 12, George excuses himself to go to the bathroom. He hums to himself as he pushes through the dense crowd. The evening turned out much more fun than he expected but then again, he can’t remember the last time he had actual fun… No thoughts, head empty, music blaring fun.
When the dancing crowd spits George out near the bathroom, he freezes.
Just a few meters away, Carlos, Oscar, Lando and Alex are standing, tightly together and talking. Carlos says something and in response, Alex’ head leans back and he smiles a crinkly, wide smile. Lando is smiling too, looking happily from Carlos to Alex and back again.
Well, no bathroom then, it wasn’t urgent anyway.
George quickly retreats, not just from near the toilets but he quickly makes his way to the back of the club. There is the door to the smoking area behind the club which is not more than a small courtyard boxed in by buildings on all four sides.
Still, it means fresh air and more personal space. Inside, the muddled scent heaviness had been pressing on him but here it’s blessedly easy to breath. He takes a few deep breathes in and together with the softer, lower light out here he can relax again.
He'll need to get used to it, sooner rather than later.
Kimi had said it a few days ago – they’ll probably mate soon. George won’t be able to stop them and really, he almost doesn’t want to anymore. Not after Alex had left him like that… No explanation.
Maybe Carlos and Alex really deserve each other. Carlos can retire and pop out baby after baby for Alex, all of them tall and with luscious hair and dark eyes… And Alex can play alpha and eventual pack leader. Play a role, George knows, because this is not how it was meant to be.
The bite mark on George’s shoulder still occasionally hurts but it’s loads better than during Imola. Aleix and Fernando are also happy with how it’s healing and it would be a lie if George said they weren’t instrumental to his healing process – both physically and mentally.
There’ll be a scar, they’re relatively sure of that by now but scars can fade and even then, this is George’s shame to carry. It won’t affect neither Carlos nor Alex.
George leans against the cool wall of the building on the other side from the door to the club.
The crash didn’t really hurt and medical cleared him quickly but now he does feel a little woozy, aided by the alcohol. It was stupid to follow Lando’s siren call. He could be in bed now, sleeping or watching one of the shows he’s been putting off because he started them with Alex.
The door to the club opens and closes as the couple that had been smoking goes back inside again, leaving George alone. The noise that spilled out still rings in his ears though, just like the crunching of the carbon fibre had.
Why did it have to be Carlos off all people? 19 other F1 drivers and off all of them, George had to crash into him… Maybe he should retire and go live off the grid somewhere in Scotland. Just a small house, no internet, no people – just him, a library full of books and a few sheep.
But if George is honest with himself, he hates to read and sheep wool makes his skin itch.
The door opens again and a few men trickle out, talking loudly amongst themselves.
George will have to go in again soon, at least to get his coat and just hope not to run into Carlos or Alex again. Carlos isn’t one to fight but as Lando’s closest friend of the drivers, George wouldn’t want to provoke any disagreements with him on Lando’s special evening.
George opens his eyes again and pushes off the rough stone wall.
“Hey George,” One of the men greets in drunken delight and when George takes a second look, he recognizes him as one of the engineers from Kimi’s side of the garage. Matter of fact, all three of them are Mercedes employees.
George eases – he wouldn’t have been able to interact with fans right now or overly interested influencers. But a chat with mechanics is always welcome.
“Hello,” He greets them and stands next to them. The one smoking offers him a cigarette but George declines, frowning.
“You’ve gotten over the crash alright?” The last guy that hasn’t spoken yet smiles up at him. He's burly and young, maybe around 25 but atop his head, George can clearly see how the dark hair is thinning.
“Yes, thank you,” George smiles but then admits, “Rough day.”
They guy that’s smoking crosses his arms, scoffing, “Yeah, Josh and the others will have a lot of work to do the next few days while we-“ He looks George up and down with a slight frown on his lips. “-Are here, having fun.”
Okay, so maybe this is not just a nice and simple conversation with mechanics. But George can hold his own – they have the right to be angry at George for crashing if it means more work to them and their friends. It’s natural.
On the next breath in, George realizes how thick the air around them has gotten. At least one of the guys, if not more, must be alphas or omegas if this is anything to go by.
George lets his gaze sweep over them carefully, from the older guy smoking, to the young one with the hair loss, to the tall one that talked to him first. It’s a stigmatisation for sure but if George had to guess, at least the smoker and the young one are alphas. He doesn’t let that intimidate him.
“I’m not happy either but Monaco is a track like that, it’s unforgiving for small mistakes,” George says, trying to stay all calm and collected. This is part of being a driver; he’s not defending himself, simply explaining.
But it doesn’t meet quite the right ears. “’Small mistakes’…” The smoker scoffs again, rolling his eyes at George.
“Tobias,” The tall guy hisses, then smiles at George but with too many teeth, “We’re all friends here.”
“Sure,” George agrees, taken aback.
He’s never- he can’t remember a time where any team member has ever spoken to him in such a disrespectful way. The smoker is clearly still glaring at him and the younger guy has his arms crossed as well, making the muscles bulge, revealing that he probably works with heavy equipment.
“There are just sometimes days like that,” The tall guy offers, which attracts both Tobias’ and the younger ones’ eyes to glare at him instead of George.
This leads to nothing, George realizes.
Their emotions are high and all of them are drunk – him include – no good team member chatting can happen like this. He’s exhausted anyway, frustrated too, and so it’ll be better if he just heads home.
He’ll do a sorry tour around the factory after the triple header is finished, shell out the money for nicer coffee, tea and cake and everything will be well again. These guys probably won’t even remember tomorrow that they had this conversation.
“Have a nice rest of the evening, lads,” George smiles and goes to walk past Tobias and back into the club.
He's halted abruptly by a hand gripping his upper arm tightly. George comes to an embarrassingly stumbling stop and looks down at the man – Tobias again – who sneers up at him with an inexplicably dirty grin, “You like it hard, don’t you?” The smoke is thick on his breath.
“What?” George asks in confusion. Hard? No, he usually likes his races easy and simple, pole to win, grand slam ideally, but this is Monaco, not some karting track. Also, he’s not driving a McLaren, he can only do so much…
“You like to get fucked, by the way you smelled last week,” The younger man not holding leers, getting closer. “The alpha must’ve taken you nice and deep… Dean here isn’t an alpha but he’s hung like one, I’m sure he’ll be able to satisfy you just as well,” He points to the tall, nicer guy that has an abashed look on his face. He doesn’t interject his friends.
George’s veins run cold, freezing him to the spot. His heart is beating high in his throat but he feels lightheaded at the same time. Like if he’d tried to run, he’d just collapse.
He should push this Tobias person away. He should ask him what gives him the nerve to speak to George – one of the drivers of his own damned team – this way but he can’t. The panic and confusion cloud his sense, leaving him stuck in the hard grip around his arm.
The man holding him takes George’s inaction as an invitation. He leans up disgustingly close to his mouth, cooing, “We can knot you and he’ll go last, you’ll barely feel the difference…” And his hand reaches up towards the high collar of George’s shirt – where Alex bit him.
“Don’t-” George squeaks, his voice high over the sound of ripping fabric and suddenly he can move again. But he only stumbles back, right into the other alpha who’s disgustingly clammy fingers curl around his upper arms, holding him tight.
His shirt is now ripped, the collar is much more open than before, displaying the healing bitemark on his shoulder to the evident glee of the mechanics.
“Ah, see what we have here… Nice reminder, we’ll give you two more if you’ll be a good little beta for us,” And George can feel a wet, disgusting, warm tongue lapping at his skin where Alex bit him.
He struggles, futilely, as the other men advance. Dean doesn’t look much too sorry now, more like this is his wildest fantasy come true and while George’s body lags behind, his brain has long caught up in what dangerous of a situation he is right now.
Then the door to the outdoor area opens suddenly and a small figure exits. Even with the darkness outside and the light from inside obscuring his feature, George can heave a desperate gasp of relief.
“What’s this then?” Lewis asks, voice cool and authoritative. Immediately, the man holding George lets go and the others step away. The spit is still wet on George’s skin.
“Oh, nothing, Lewis,” Dean says politely. “We were just having a chat.”
Lewis takes a slow, deliberate breath in, his muscular shoulders going up and down with the motion. George tries to tell him with his eyes that no, they weren’t just having a chat and to not leave him alone with these men. Heaven knows what they’ll do-
Lewis scrunches up his nose and his face breaks into a mask of anger. His vicious snarl rips through the cold night air, “Get out of my face or there’ll be consequences! If I see one of you so much as look at him again, I’ll rip your scent glands out with my teeth. You disgust me!”
The men move so quick that George can barely catch their expressions when they haste back into the light of the club tails tugged between their legs.
The door slams shut, leaving Lewis and him in the darkness of the night.
George still feels shaky on his legs and he braces against one of the walls of the little courtyard. The spit drying on his skin feels sticky and he winces, when he remembers how that stranger’s tongue felt on the scar of Alex’ teeth. Which are now exposed for Lewis to see.
“It’s-” George stutters, laying a hand on his own shoulder to obscure Lewis’ view. “-it’s nothing.”
“Didn’t smell like nothing…” Lewis says lowly, eying George but not coming closer. There’s none of the viciousness left that he showed the guys. He looks more apprehensive and careful.
George takes a shaky breath in, the first of the whole day it feels like. His lungs fill with the evening air and with it comes the realization, that he was almost assaulted by members of his own team.
That’s how fare it’s gotten.
If it weren’t for Lewis they would have- Because they smelled Alex on him last week at the factory. They thought he liked it with alphas, wanted to be knotted by them. Rough. Like those people on the internet said. Beta whore.
‘You like it hard,’ Tobias said, right into George’s face like he was making him a tempting offer.
“I feel sick,” George barely manages to gurgle out, then he has to bend down and empty his stomach. Lewis does come to his side then, holding him up while he hurls the little food he’s had after the grand prix out onto his own shoes. “They smelled Alex on me,” He manages to bring out between waves of rolling sick. “Week ago, at the factory when he bit me… They knew an alpha-”
“I’ve got you,” Lewis rumbles, soothingly rubbing George’s back.
Still, his thought spiral around it.
If these three mechanics smelled him and could tell that George had slept with an alpha, how many other people in the factory knew? Was it already an open secret? Something that started as gossip smeared on toilet stalls and ended up as a pub conversation? ‘Oh George? Yes, he likes to take it from any alpha he can get… Anyway, how’s the aero-development going?’
George’s stomach convulses again but by now everything is out, so his body just does a painful, empty squeeze.
He slowly rights himself when he thinks he’s done, still with Lewis’ aiding hand. But then he remembers what the mechanics had said – what it must look like to them, that Lewis came to his rescue – and he flinches away. Slut for alphas.
Lewis lets him go and asks, “Are you feeling better?”
“No,” George answers honestly. He still feels panicked and flimsy, like one more thing will turn him inside out again. Reveal his pink and bloody insides for the whole world to see. He wants to shower, change his clothes, hide away.
“They had no right to approach you like that, no matter what you and Alex did,” Lewis says surely, fixing George with his eyes. They shine even darker in the night. “I can help you get them fired. Toto and I still talk sometimes-”
“-No, no,” George has finally collected himself again. He still feels awfully naked with his ripped shirt but the adrenalin is going down.
Making this bigger than it is, getting Toto involved- it makes George feel like he needs to throw up again. If that happens, he’ll have to tell people that he got harassed by some guys that weren’t nearly half as fit as him and still couldn’t defend himself. Like an embarrassing failure of a man.
He steels himself and tries to smile, “That’s absolutely not necessary. It was just- a misunderstanding. Nothing more.” And he tries to cover the bite mark again.
He'll just have to get through the crowd inside like this, arm slung awkwardly around himself. This club has probably seen worse and he’ll just say he was drunk if anyone asks. There’re lies enough for all possibilities and in the end – he’s just a beta. No one will care and right now, that is a good thing.
Lewis doesn’t say anything but shrugs of his stylish, black blazer and offers it to George, “To cover the-” And he points to George’s ripped collar.
George does take it then. It’s obviously too short for him but wide enough to lie comfortably around his shoulders. It’ll do for anyone just quickly sparing him a glance and that’ll have to be enough.
“My driver is waiting outside, he could get you home quicker than a taxi,” Lewis offers and George has to bite his tongue as to not question why Lewis does this.
While they were always friendly and polite with each other – they are both Brits after all – there had never been any more kindness than necessary between rivalling sportsmen.
This is more than he’d ever gotten from Lewis and it doesn’t take long for George to guess the reason why.
Lewis obviously wants to obscure the shame and embarrassment Alex has brought upon their pack in biting a beta. It won’t take a genius to put together who bit George. Anyone with a good nose that smelled him at the factory would just have to smell Alex. And if anyone knew – if the mechanics told anyone – it’ll be an embarrassment for Lewis as the pack alpha.
But George has no reason to want to extend his own shame any further, embarrass Lewis when he was the one who saved him, so he tightens the blazer around his shoulders and nods wordlessly.
He can cry later. He can break down over this later. Right now, he needs to get out of here.
Lewis doesn’t wait for another verbal confirmation, instead he turns around and leads George back into the stuffy club. Even though they take the shortest way to the side exit, George keeps his head down and doesn’t look at anyone. If the mechanics are still here- If they still want him-
He cowers down and follows Lewis’ shoes like a shadow. Until a large hand curls around his shoulder and pulls him into a sudden stop.
ALEX
“How are you feeling?” Lewis asks into the quiet space of the pack room. It’s mostly deserted except for Alex, Lewis and Charles, who’s currently occupied with calling his mate from the other room. The sun is still high in the sky and outside, the paddock is bustling.
“Okay,” Alex grits out, taking a sip from his tea which tastes like nothing but he doesn’t want to hurt Lewis’ feeling who introduced it as ‘his favourite blend’ – more like bland… “No,” He corrects himself. “It feels like it’s my fault for driving so slow but what else was I supposed to do? George will hate me for ruining his race – he crashed because of me!”
“The team told you to cover for Carlos, right?” Lewis asks with a sigh.
“Sure but I still could have- I don’t know, let him past,” Alex argues, knowing how ridiculous he sounds.
But he can’t help the guilt. It sits so deep in his bones these days that every slight thing makes him feel it. He's already hurt George enough and even though he’s reportedly fine – it was only a light crash after all – Alex still has this nagging feeling to check up on him.
“Do you want my honest opinion?” Lewis asks and Alex quickly answer with a nod, this is why they are here after all, while the rest of the pack is already getting ready to go out later… “I think you’re spiralling and throwing yourself on the worst pity party guilt trip I’ve ever seen.” Alex can’t help but whine at that. “We are drivers. Accidents happen. We push to the limit, that’s our literal job and I think you’re infantilizing George’s choices by putting the blame on yourself. He chose to push – it didn’t work. Shit happens. He knew the risks when he got in the car.”
Alex lets the words sink in, realizing, “I’m being crazy again, aren’t I?”
“No, Alex, it’s normal and good to care for the people you love. Alpha or not. This is totally normal… But in situations like these I feel like you’re often taking blame when it’s not yours. Other people make choices that are sometimes bad but that is their fault, not yours,” Lewis explains with a slim smile and gives Alex’ shoulder a friendly clap.
The real problem is that Alex has trouble adjusting to this new reality – the life where he can’t speak to George again.
Before the disaster that was their last goodbye, he hadn’t felt it so deeply but now he does, that he has to move on against his will. He has to. He has to find joy in life, find ways the fill his days and evening, friends to talk to, people to love.
Alex searches and finds George in all the crevices of his life now: his home, his family, his emotions and his problems. At every turn George jumps out at him in one form or another, making it even more difficult to overcome missing him.
“I think you should go home now, have a nice dinner, get ready and then go clubbing with the pack,” Lewis smiles. “It’ll do you good to get out the house and have some fun. Meet a few new people, talk to someone new, have a drink. Live a little!”
Alex knows that Lewis is right but it still feels difficult.
But he nods, not wanting to disappoint his pack alpha, “I’ll do my meditations here and then I’ll do that.”
From the other room, Charles’ hushed, almost inaudible voice sounds.
Alex does make it to the club but he’s considerably later than his other packmates.
Somehow, he got caught up staring at himself in the bathroom mirror, at his teeth to be exact. Ever since he’s bitte George, his teeth feel a little strange, dull almost. Google said that it’s normal after an alpha or omega bites someone – a natural prevention of people going on mating rampages – but Alex for the life of him can’t find accounts where it happens after an alpha bit a beta.
These and other medical worries keep him spiralling until it’s almost midnight and he really has to go.
The club is not as overwhelming as he expected it to be.
It’s his first time going clubbing since he presented and at first, the number of different scents condensed into the small space overwhelm him. Even the paddock used to feel like too much for him and that is at least outside where there’s also fresh air. Inside of the club, it’s just one heavy cloud of scent.
But after he’s taken a few moments to breath and collect himself, his nose recovering from the input, he can finally pick out a few scents. There are the light and airy scents of omegas, the deep and earthy scents of alphas and underneath it all the scents of betas, mellow and barely detectable.
Alex attributes it to his relationship with George but those are the scents that still intrigue him the most. The softness of it, the gentle way it curls around him. So void of all these heavy emotions, just the smell of human.
Alex decides to follow his nose, aimlessly going where it smells the most comforting and familiar. Unsurprisingly, it leads him directly to some of his packmates near the entrance to the club, not far away from where the VIP tables are.
Lando and Carlos are agitatedly discussing something but they both smell happy and content. Next to them, Oscar stares off into space and even if Alex wouldn’t have known through the pack that his rut is due next week, he’d still be able to know just from the smell.
Alex scrunches his nose up a little at the slight edge of decay that his scent has taken on, then greets the group.
“Thank God you’re here Alex,” Carlos greets. “Lando-” But he slurs it more like ‘Lano’. “-Thinks he’ll beat me at golf and I say, no way! Agree with me,” He orders and Alex can’t help but smile at their antics.
He raises his hands, “I’d rather stay out of it. You two should just play a game and find out…”
The argument goes on from there but Alex turns to Oscar, asking, “How are you holding up? Is Lily in town already?”
Oscar takes a moment to realize he’s being spoken to. He blinks lazily, then answers in a monotone voice, “She’s on an airplane, should land tomorrow morning… I can’t wait until she’s here, I feel about ready to go into my den and never come out again.”
“Why wasn’t she here already?” Alex can’t help but ask. He usually isn’t privy to all his packmates plans but they usually keep a pretty good schedule of the mature drivers’ ruts and heats.
“She had a family thing yesterday and I thought I’d be able to hold over till then,” Oscar swallows, mouth evidently dry. He’s holding a bottle of cola in his hand but seems to have forgotten about it. Alex gives his hand a gentle tap, reminding him. “Thanks mate,” Oscar sighs, taking a deep swig and emptying the bottle.
“Should you be out like this? I can get you home and stay with you until she’s here,” Alex offers carefully. When he remembers how he felt before his rut – out if it, confused, driven by his most primal needs – he can’t imagine having been in a club where there were so many strangers.
“I think I’ll go home soon,” Oscar concedes, running a hand through his hair and looking a little better at the mention of going home. “I think I might have to change my rut suppressants soon, these don’t do shit anymore,” He mumbles unhappily, then drains the last of his cola.
“How long have you been taking them?” Alex asks out of curiosity. He won’t be allowed rut suppressants during his other treatment but either way, you normally don’t start them until the person had at least two ruts after their maturing one.
“Almost four years, they’re still the same ones I started taking,” Oscar explains with a bit of a grimace. “I really don’t like having ruts so I stuck to just once during summer and winter break. Don’t think that’s possible anymore…”
Alex wants to answer something, console Oscar maybe, offer that he too doesn’t like having ruts, but something distracts him. At first it feels like it’s just a fluke – an olfactory hallucination maybe – but then Carlos next to him freezes too while talking to Lando.
Lewis’ smell is permeating the stuffy club air but not his usual dewy morning smell, not the fresh cut grass and the damp moss – it smells like a storm. Crackling and electric, a little bit like ozone.
A shiver runs down Alex spine and all the hairs on his body stand up. Lewis isn’t just angry – he’s enraged.
And then Alex sees him, just a few meters away, peaking up between the still dancing and partying club patrons. Behind him, less than half a meter trailing behind, is George.
It's not even a conscious decision really but Alex can’t help going after them. The crowd of people makes it difficult to keep up with them but it gives Alex time to realize multiple things at once.
It's not just Lewis’ anger that’s clinging to George; there’s also the syrupy and musky smell of two strange alphas clinging to him. The smell makes Alex wrinkle his eyebrows in confusion and he has to take a few deep breathes in to realize, that not just any smell – it’s the smell of arousal. Of want. Of desire. Of hunger.
Alex quickens his steps and the blood rushes through his ears.
George’s body language is off. He’s cowering, almost crouching which looks very odd on his tall frame. And he’s wearing an oddly shaped and sized blazer around his shoulders that does a bad job of covering how his shirt is clearly torn at the collar.
Alex’ alpha responds with immediate worry, helpless against the tide of his pack alpha’s rage and his mate’s distress. Someone had tried- did touch George. Against his will. They ripped his shirt and Lewis had given him his jacket to cover it up.
Alex will kill them and Lewis will help and then- But first he has to make sure George is okay-
Alex moves and no one is there to stop him.
He reaches George in two long strides and wraps his hand around his shoulder. It brings them both to a sudden stop, automatically pulling them closer together than Alex intended.
As George flinches around to look at Alex in obvious shock and surprise, Alex gets a clear whiff of the alpha smell of George. It’s concentrated near his nape – near where Alex bit him – and Alex realizes that the alpha must have licked or kissed George there.
A low growl escapes his throat.
The burning scent of the alpha clogs up his nose where it had no business to be – not if George didn’t want it too which is quite clear to him.
In his grip, George does a little shriek and tries to pull away. Alex rumbles deep in his chest to sooth him. He just wants to make sure he’s fine, ask what happened but-
“Alex, let go of George,” Lewis hisses under his breath. He’s standing before them, small and insignificant. No, not insignificant but if it’s between his pack alpha and his mate, Alex knows who he’ll chose. George is everything.
“What happened?!” He asks, looking between both Lewis and George, looking for an answer that he already knows. He needs names, descriptions – they should tell the bouncers and the police and-
The way the heel of George’s hand collides Alex’ solar plexus takes him by surprise. He stumbles back, letting go of George and holding his chest where the breath was knocked out of.
“Are you insane?!” George cusses, eyes teary but angry at the same time. “What is wrong with you?”
“George, I just- wanted to make sure- you’re- alright,” Alex wheezes, reaching out again.
By now, Carlos, Lando and Oscar have caught up with them, shielding them a little from the unknowing patrons around them. Alex is glad for his pack’s safety but at the same time, his alpha snarls at Oscar being so close now. He’ll go into rut soon – he’s just another potentially dangerous alpha too close to George.
Alex takes a deep breath, steading and centring himself but he can’t help but glare at Oscar.
“Make sure I’m alright?” George repeats, voice shrill. “You’re the whole reason why I’m even in this situation!”
In his confusion, Alex tears his eyes away from Oscar, looking at George.
While Alex will gladly take the responsibility for their relationship crashing and burning, he doesn’t understand how this particular thing is his fault. He wants to ask but doesn’t get the chance.
Lando gets unceremoniously pushed aside, stumbles, and Fernando steps into their midst. It doesn’t take the smaller beta long to assess the situation and he looks at George, saying coldly, “I take you home.”
Alex finds his voice then, gearing up to take charge, “Hell no! George is my-”
“-That is all you alphas say,” Fernando interrupts him, spitting the words out like they’re leaving a disgusting taste in his mouth. He’s glaring up at Alex, deadly and leaving no room for discussion. “’My, my, my’ – The world doesn’t belong to you! All you are is violent, angry, balloon heads that try to take whatever they like. George isn’t yours and you can’t push and pull at him how you please!”
Next to Alex, Lando makes a snappy sound but Carlos is there, putting a soothing hand on his shoulder to hold him back. But his anger is clear in the air, sharp and acidic like vinegar and fully non-detectable for Fernando.
“Fernando,” Lewis says lowly, stepping forward to stand next to him, and warning, “Don’t get involved in stuff you as a beta don’t understand…”
Fernando laughs coldly and then bluffs, “I understand enough. Am 40, not 4, Lewis.” And he turns to glare at him now. “I will take George home. None of you come near him – he’s a beta and your power-” He extends a finger, tapping it to Lewis’ chest. “-ends there. I take him home. You deal with your circus and if this happens again, I will get the FIA involved. George isn’t anyone’s chewing toy.”
They stare at each other for a moment, the air tense – and then Lewis steps back and gives Fernando a tight nod.
Alex can’t believe it. George obviously needs support and people and Lewis will just let him go with Fernando? Fernando, of all people. Fernando who is cold and old and never was much of a nice person to anyone… But now George nods too, minutely but it is there, a tight little nod. Agreement. Then he turns to the door and Fernando follows him outside.
Alex belatedly realises the whine he lets out and the way both Lewis and Carlos come to hold him back gently. They are not being rough with him but it still hurts, that Alex is here and George is outside, leaving him – again. Because Alex fucked it up – also, again.
“Can you take him home and have an eye on him?” Lewis asks Carlos and that’s really what takes Alex out of his foggy headspace.
He detangles himself from them with great difficulty and then shakes his head, “I’m not going home with Carlos. He’s done more than enough for me…” He can’t look at him, the brown doe eyes and the lips. God, he used Carlos and now Lewis wants to have him go with him again… Alex refuses to be that burden. He takes another step back, repeating, “I’m not going home with Carlos.”
Carlos doesn’t protest, instead he looks at Lewis and shrugs, “I tried my best with him and it did not work. You have a go.” And then he nods to Lando, disappearing with him back into the depth of the club.
“I’ll- uh, go too,” Oscar says awkwardly and points behind himself. But he doesn’t go until Lewis nods and signals him to.
“Then I’ll take you home I guess,” Lewis sighs, turning back towards the exit – now with Alex in tow instead of George.
When they step outside of the club, there’s no trace left of George, not even a little of his or the alphas’ scents. A black, sleek car is waiting a few meters down from the entrance and Lewis opens the rear car door for Alex to go inside.
He waits though, asking into the cold and biting night air, “What happened tonight? With George?” Shivering unbiddenly, both from the cold and the uncertainty.
Lewis averts his eyes, looking back towards the club. His scent has long mellowed out again but there’s still a troubled note to it – a storm brewing at the horizon. “It’s not my place to tell you that,” Lewis finally answers.
“Did they-” Alex wants to ask if they touched him. If they kissed him. If they did all the horrible things entitled alphas think they can do. But he knows Lewis won’t answer that so he asks instead, “He’ll be okay?”
Lewis sighs deeply, “After the shit you’ve already put him through, I recon he’ll be fine with this.”
That stings, deeper than Alex would have expected it too.
Alex of course knows what he’s put George through – it keeps him up at night. But this is the first time that Lewis has acknowledged it so openly.
“You know I didn’t do it on purpose,” Alex replies, wounded. “It’s- that kiss in Japan was my alpha taking over and the bite- you know I didn’t mean to do that! I didn’t mean to hurt him and I know I did.”
Lewis clicks his tongue, letting the door to the car fall shut again. He has an exasperated look on his face as he says, “Sure, but all of that wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t let this situation built up. You could have told him how you felt, could have told us so we could properly support you. Instead, you hid from your own feels and lied to everyone around you. And then it’s no wonder that the first thing you two did when you had the chance was jump each other like sex crazed idiots.” His voice has gotten sharper as he went on talking, cutting like a knife. “The worst thing is: I get it. Nico and I were crazy about each other too but you need to find a measure that works for you. We did and we managed to keep most of our romantic and possessive feelings in check until he retired and we could mate. Relationships need balance, Alex. It’s not all or nothing.”
The words sink deep into Alex and he finds that he hadn’t thought about it that way.
He always thought they had to be mates or nothing at all. That the only option was to spend the rests of their lives together or never speak again. Friendship had been a dream – a lie he told himself to sooth the bitter feelings of regret and guilt. But he had never considered that they could slowly built something again, find a measure, like Lewis had called it.
“Get in the car, Alex,” Lewis urges in a soft voice and this time, Alex does as he’s told. Lewis gets in on the other side and tells the driver to bring them to his home.
The drive is short but silent. The car rolls up the Monaco hills with a low purr, the nightly city blurring past.
Alex feels like this day has been longer than 24 hours. Exhaustion sits deep in his bones and somehow, he can’t imagine having to wake up tomorrow. That he’ll close his eyes and then has to open them again.
George’s shocked and disturbed expression is burned into his retinas. The way he looked at Alex as he turned around, pure horror in his eyes.
Alex has the hope that George didn’t know it was him and expected one of the alphas that harassed him instead- But Alex is one of those alphas. It doesn’t matter than he didn’t do it tonight, he also hurt George. He has the same right to be scared of him.
The realization brings burning hot tears to his eyes that irritate him even more because he has no right to cry. George is the victim in all of this – not him. He has no right to cry about it now, this is his bed and he must lie in it.
A gentle hand touches his leg and with a start, Alex realizes that they have stopped in front of Lewis’ apartment complex.
The words suddenly bubble out of him like a broken dam, “I think I always felt like I had to lose him… Even before I presented, I always felt like we couldn’t be forever, that it was too good to last.” Lewis inclines his head a little, listening intently, eyes shining in the darkness of the car. “And that if I- prolonged it, gave George the chance to even want me as an alpha, that I would ruin his life. Toto told me exactly that and so did James and Carlos: People will judge us. Him more so and if I gave him the chance to sacrifice himself for our relationship, he would. So I couldn’t let him do that.”
Lewis makes a gruff, understanding sound, nodding slowly.
Alex knows that he’s not off base in all of this. He’s had his reason but he’s always been a weak, weak man when it comes to holding his principals.
Lewis speaks up after a while, “It might still happen with time. A love like you have for him – and that I think he has for you too – can’t just be erased. I’m sure George could learn to appreciate this version of you but for that, you have to learn to do that first. And start to be more honest with yourself.”
Alex nods and a deep feeling of gratefulness overcomes him. He’s so glad that he has Lewis and the pack – people that unconditionally love and accept him, even if he’s being crazy. People that are honest with him and make him a better man, a better alpha.
“Let’s go up, I told Nico to make a really nice nest on the couch…” Lewis smiles and they exit the car.
Nico indeed made the perfect nest for them on the couch and prepared a big can of tea and some snacks. He rolls his eyes lovingly when Lewis praises him for it but receives a kiss and a gentle scenting without protest. Then he bundles Alex up in a blanket and they settle down on the couch in comfortable silence.
Every now and then, tears well up in Alex eyes as he remembers a particular detail from tonight or the past few months. The pain runs much deep than he would have admitted yesterday but it also feels good to really feel it for once.
The minutes and hours trickle past, every now and then one of them falls asleep and a few times Alex wakes up to Nico’s and Lewis’ low conversations.
At around early morning, Alex can’t sleep anymore but he doesn’t feel the need to get up as both Lewis and Nico gently rumble and purr around him.
“Why did you let Fernando take him?” Alex asks tiredly but accusation lacing his voice as Lewis shifts, obviously awake now.
“He was right, George as a beta is not my responsibility,” Lewis hums, voice thick with sleep.
“And I wasn’t either until a few months ago… This separation feels kind of arbitrary,” Alex complains.
Now that he’s had time to cool off, he knows it wouldn’t have been the best solution if he took George home. But someone from the pack could have done it, not Fernando of all people who made it very clear what he thinks about them.
Lewis doesn’t sound angry as he explains it but there is an edge to his voice, “It is arbitrary, at least partially, though betas definitely contributed to this system… The first betas that got into the sport didn’t want to be part of the grid pack and now it’s just- established that way.”
“People in the real world have started to do it,” Alex says eagerly. He’s read about it a lot in the last few months, the way betas can fit into alpha or omega dynamics just fine. It had become a bit of a special interest, not even because of George. “They include betas in their packs and anecdotes have been very positive.”
“There’ll also be anecdotes out there that a move to Ferrari is a good choice,” Nico adds lazily, making Lewis tut in response.
“It would be more modern and I am not opposed,” Lewis says instead, ignoring Nico’s snide remark.
“Is Carlos?” Alex asks. He can imagine Carlos having more reservations about including the betas. He comes from a more traditional family of alphas and omegas but he’s also always been open to change.
“Yes and no,” Lewis says cryptically. “Fernando definitely is.”
Alex can’t help but scoff at that, saying, “Of course he is, I would be too if I were still a beta… You guys don’t make it easy to like the pack from the outside.”
“I guess,” Lewis says, sounding almost surprised, like he never thought about it before. “The existence of a pack must make the outside feel very lonely…”
“It does,” Alex says dryly. He remembers very well the long years spent outside of the pack. Always hearing stories from Lando or Charles about how great the pack is, how supportive and special; all the things they did and the private get togethers that betas weren’t privy to.
And then of course the power that the pack omega and alpha have, even in front of the FIA. If they say a new pack room is needed at a certain track – it is done, no questions asked. Betas don’t have that, no representative other than their teams to shield them from the whims of their governing body…
Later while Lewis is in the shower and Alex is sitting in the kitchen, eating a bowl of oatmeal, Nico unexpectedly joins him. The omega comes to stand in front of him at the other side of the kitchen island, looking at him with squinty eyes.
Alex pauses where he’s been aimlessly scowling through Instagram.
“You should tell George,” Nico says confidently.
“What?” Alex asks in confusion.
“That your alpha thinks of him as his mate. I think it will help the whole situation a lot,” Nico explains, gesticulating at Alex and he feels reminded of Nico’s Italian heritage. “You didn’t tell him that, yes?”
Alex sighs, putting his phone down, “I didn’t want him to feel under pressure…”
“I think it would explain your behaviour a lot better,” Nico offers. “How much trouble you had staying away from him but the moment you had him, you ran away. That you thought that he as a beta wouldn’t understand or want you as an alpha. How you didn’t want to impose.”
“And how would I do that?” Alex asks, unsure.
“Go to him now. Don’t let what happened last night fester. Don’t let him wonder and worry any longer. Make clear what your issue is and then he can make an informed decision,” Nico says and there’s an unexpected fire in his voice. “Whatever Carlos or Lewis or other people say, it’s best if all of this is out in the open. No more hiding from what you want.”
Alex recalls what Lewis said last night – how Nico and him were crazy for each other and how long it took them to finally get together. Was it a similar situation for them too?
“And if he rejects me?” Alex asks, the thinness of his own voice surprising him.
“Then at least you can start to move on,” Nico says with little to no empathy in his voice. “But this limbo of lies that you keep yourself in isn’t good. You deserve to speak the truth and George deserves to hear it.”
He's danced around telling the truth for ages and no one up to this point had told him as fervently as Nico to just get it out. There’s a sudden and unexpected alure in it. No more secrets or shame – just the truth and whatever comes after. They both deserve it.
Alex gets up from the kitchen island quickly. “You’re right. I’ll tell him.”
Notes:
Is this also a critique on the porn industry and the way it changes men's views on sex and consent? Yes it is:) Also I just love putting George through traumatic shit, I don't even have an excuse...
Next up: 'The fever between us'