F1 oneshots

Inside Job ≪◦ ❈ ◦≫ Charles Leclerc

"Four minutes, Charles, we need you in the car!"

The Monégasque steps out of the driver's room and approaches the car. He finishes strapping on his helmet and looks to his left.

I hand him his gloves and he gives me a wink while putting them on. I roll my eyes. He's always flirting under the helmet and then claims not to have done anything once I ask him about it.

This has been going on for months. Charles winks at me, climbs into his car and puts his steering wheel on. Then, it's my turn.

I step towards the car and lean over the halo, reaching down to grab one of the lap straps. It's quite low so I have to get close to Charles to do it. And because his radio isn't turned on yet, he uses the situation to his advantage.

"Hello, Y/n," he says quietly while I fix his lap straps to the crotch strap. I blush, making sure his straps are fitted correctly.

"Hi, Charles," I answer, not looking at him but feeling his eyes follow mine. I reach out behind him and grab his right shoulder strap buckling it into the quick-release buckle by his waist.

Once I finish one side I lean back to ensure it's fitted well, then grab the other side. This is one of the most important jobs at F1- ensuring the driver is safe during the race- especially if there is a crash.

"Gosh, you are so beautiful," he whispers, his sweet accent coating his words gently and I can't help but pause for a second. My eyes finally meet his and we both hesitate.

My smile breaks our silence: "Thank you, Charles."

I buckle his other strap and adjust both to be nice and tight. Then I leave my hands on his shoulders and look him in the eyes: "Not a word, Charles."

I see his frown under the helmet: "What do you mean?"

My light smile doesn't hide his concern. I put one of my hands on his helmet, the other I let reach down to grab his hand.

"I mean I will lose my job if anyone finds out."

Charles is confused: "Finds out what?"

I chuckle: "That we're going to dinner on Tuesday."

He smiles. His hand squeezes mine slightly and pulls it against his helmet to "kiss" it.

"I won't let them fire you," he smiles with his eyes, caressing my hand, "what you're doing is very important."

I chuckle again, leaning back: "The inside job?"

Charles laughs and gives me another wink before concentrating on his Qualifying.

I step back towards the screens and stats, preparing for my job as a mechanic during the three qualifying sessions.

As Charles drove his out lap, I watched the screens, just seeing how he drove the lap at Singapore.

His moves were calculated and precise, earning him a perfect position for his fast lap. While me and the other mechanics watched the screens, the engineers behind us spoke to one another about strategies.

Charles set his first time, earning him the third spot on the grid. After another fast lap that brought him second place, he was called back to the pits. His position was secured for Q2.

We brought the car back into the garage and set up Charles' screens in front of him for him to see the stats.

His radio was still on, so he didn't even look at me. I felt my heart sink a bit as we checked the car for any minor inconveniences when I heard his voice. 

"Y/n?"

I looked up from under the car, looked at Charles and asked: "Yeah? What's up?"

"I think one of my seatbelts is a bit loose," he said and I could practically see his cheeky smile under his helmet.