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12romy · 1 year

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I'm afraid things got out of hand. It was supposed a cute and fluffy SHORT snippet and somehow it ended up with a 1.7k fic with Britcedes being possessive as hell over Mick. Gotta admit, it's a nice turn of event XD

Enjoy!!

Lewis couldn't help but glare as he passed in front of the McLaren hospitality with his scooter. It was stronger than him, he couldn't help it.

Mick was staying with them this weekend since he was driving Piastri's car during FP1. Lewis was happy for him, really. If it were up to him, Mick would be in a car every single race. Sadly, it wasn't, and he wasn't ready to let go of his own seat. Not quite yet.

So, he was condemned to watch Mick wear the McLaren ugly papaya orange, and drive a lame car because let's face it, the only not-lame car was their dear W14. She was a forever unmatched beauty and Lewis would die on this hill.

He found George wearing the same expression of displeasure as he parked his scooter in a corner of the garage.

"I don't like it," announced the young man with an upset expression, a bit like a pout, and Lewis felt his own expression soften.

"I know, love," he sighed. "I don't like it either."

George groaned, and plopped his head against Lewis' shoulder, defeated. He always did this when he wanted a hug, and Lewis found it adorable because he had to lean down to do that. He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, pulling him into the hug he had requested.

"He should be here with us," George muttered, the sound of his voice hushed against Lewis' neck.

"He'll be back soon," Lewis murmured in answer, trying to convince himself much as George.

As he drove into FP1, Lewis had mix feelings each time he passed Mick in the McLaren. Mick waved at him, more than once, and Lewis was happy to see him drive. But it pissed him off so much that he was with another team.

He belonged with Mercedes. Throughout the weekend, Lewis found quite a lot of pictures of Mick at Mclaren. The PR team had decided to use him as much as possible, because why wouldn't they? It was Mick. Bright smile, soft laugh, puppy eyes Mick. It would be stupid not to make everything about him.

"I want to skin them alive when they touch him like this," George said, glaring at the picture of Lewis' phone. It was a Mclaren mechanic who had an arm over Mick's shoulder as they were talking animatingly. George had just voiced out Lewis' thought, even if he was rather thinking something around strangling instead of skinning. They shouldn't be allowed to touch him. Mick was theirs. He was Mercedes'.

And Mick knew it as well. They caught his longing glances toward their garage, and even if he was supposed to stay with McLaren, he kept somehow ending up near their hospitality, chatting with the team or asking about Lewis and George.

They had, obviously, no claim as official as they wished. Lewis and George, that is. It wasn't like they were dating Mick, no matter how badly they wanted to. They hadn't found the guts to confess just yet and were still trying to find the best, most romantic way to do it. They were working on a Plan, with a capital if you please. They were practically sure Mick felt, if not the same, at least something for them.

They'd have to say something soon, or they would go crazy with possessiveness before that.

Mick fit in so well with the team. In just a few months, he had everyone wrapped around his little finger without even meaning to.

Bono had all but adopted the kid. With anyone else, Lewis would've been jealous to see Bono so fond of them. But it was Mick, so it was okay. Lewis certainly couldn't hold it against Bono. Angela was fiercely protective of Mick, and even Toto looked softer around him.

Lewis and George, well, they were head over heels for him, and half the garage had already given them a shovel-talk, even though they weren't dating yet. Everyone also said it was a matter of time when ether of them answered that, which reassured them every time that their feelings might not be unrequited.

The entire weekend was pure torture. The atmosphere in the garage was gloomy because of Mick's absence, and to add to everything, both cars had issues. George during the qualifying and Lewis during the race. He had to retire the car to his dismay, and George didn't even make it to the podium, barely getting in the points.

A bad, bad weekend for Mercedes.

The post-race debrief was positively depressing. Everyone was in a mood, pulling long faces, and exhaustion didn't help.

Bono was going over some data with a tired and monotone voice when someone knocked at the door.

"I brought you guys hot cocoa!" Mick announced in a cheerful voice, a tray of drinks precariously balanced on one arm as he opened the door.

It might as well have been a divine apparition, with the way everyone was struck with pure, unaltered joy at the sight of their reserve driver.

He was still wearing a bright orange McLaren shirt under his Mercedes jacket and had probably come straight to the garage as soon as he'd been released from his duty at McLaren.

He skipped around the table, giving out a mug to everyone.

"Yours got almond milk in it," he winked as he gave Lewis his mug. He was gone a second later, which was a good thing because Lewis would've kissed him right then and there. He and George exchanged a meaningful look. Nevermind for the Plan, they couldn't wait anymore.

"Alright, I'll leave you to it," Mick exclaimed, still smiling.

"No, no, you can stay," Toto interjected. "We're almost done anyway."

The rest of the debrief was much more animated. Questions and ideas flew around, and everyone's depressed mood was gone and forgotten.

"Well, I think we're gonna do great next race," Toto announced at the end. "That'll be all for today. Rest and relax, and I'll see you all tomorrow morning on the plane."

Lewis had found himself flying more often with the team when it meant both George and Mick would be there.

The three drivers drove back to the hotel together, and instead of parting ways in the lobby, George offered Mick to join them in their room for a movie night. He agreed immediately, and they made their way to the suite Lewis and George were sharing.

"Man, that shirt has to go," Lewis growled the second they closed the door, glaring at Mick's shirt as if it personally offended him. Mick blushed, looking down at the McLaren shirt, and Lewis realised his words could've been misinterpreted.

"What- What are you guys gonna do about it?" Mick stammered, face flustered but with an unexpected glint of confidence in his eyes.

"I-" Lewis hesitated. He looked at George helplessly, and his boyfriend sighed.

"This was not how we planned to do this," he lamented but took a step closer to Mick. "We had a whole plan, you know... But then, McLaren had to try and steal you from us."

"I think we should help you get out of that shirt," Lewis added, a seductive smile on his lips. "If you want to, of course."

Mick nodded shyly, and Lewis took another step forward. George gently took off the Mercedes jacket off Mick's shoulders, and Lewis pushed the tip of his fingers under the hem of his shirt, grazing at his stomach. Mick was breathing hard, and Lewis wanted to press his palm against his heart, just to feel how fast it was beating.

He started to lift off the shirt, searching Mick's face for any sign of discomfort that would've made him stop immediately. He pulled the shirt above his head and took a moment to admire Mick's naked torso.

"God, you're so beautiful," George breathed out, stealing the words out of Lewis' mouth. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please," Mick pleaded softly, and George wrapped his long fingers around his neck to pull him in a gentle kiss. Lewis took in the sight in front of him. It was one of the most overwhelmingly beautiful things he'd seen in his life. And he'd get to have this, to have them both. He was one lucky guy, for sure.

Mick expectantly turned toward him after they broke the kiss, extending his arms toward him. Lewis snatched him in his arms, chuckling a little at Mick's neediness, and kissed him.

He noted distractingly that his lips tasted like cocoa, and he licked along his lower lip as Mick opened his mouth to deepen the kiss.

"Let us take care of you," he whispered in his ear, enjoying the shiver that ran through Mick's body.

"Only- only if I get to take care of you, too," Mick negotiated, flustered and timid.

"Gosh, what did we do to deserve you?" George hummed l, kissing Mick again.

"If we do this, we need you to know, Mick..." Lewis started, hesitating. "That I- we- er..."

George came to his rescue, a hand on his forearm to appease him.

"We love you, Mick," he said with a confident smile. "Lewis isn't very comfortable to say it aloud, but it doesn't mean he doesn't feel the same."

It was Lewis' turn to turn red with embarrassment. He buried his face against Mick's neck, who giggled.

"We had planned to do better," Lewis grumbled. "We wanted to wine and dine you, do things properly..."

"You've been doing that, though," he pipped up. "You've spent the last four months or so taking me out to dinners, and surfing and movie nights and boat rides... In my head, that counts."

"Oh," George breathed out.

"Were we that obvious?" Lewis inquired.

"Kinda," Mick giggled again. "But I like it. It's cute."

He kissed them again, one after the other, taking his time. Lewis hummed against his lip, pulling him toward the bed.

"Ah, I haven't said it yet, did I?" Mick stopped right as they reached the bed. "I love you both."

George basically tackled him to the mattress under Lewis' amused expression. He didn't wait any longer to climb onto the bed, joining them.

Later, that night, they fell asleep curled up in bed, Mick between the two of them and wearing a Mercedes hoody. He was where he belonged, and everything was as it should be.

#merc boys #f1rpf #rpf fic #f1 #fluff #getting together #no smut even if it's suggested #mick does end up shirtless but he had it coming #mick schumacher #lewis hamilton #george russell #not mclaren friendly :)

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