Formula 1 | One Shots (1)

Heat Waves | Pierre Gasly

Authors Note: This storyline was requested by: Csmyth289 

Done in reader POV ☀️  
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The Qatari heat was thick and relentless, suffocating every part of my body. The Alpine garage felt like a sauna, even with the three massive industrial fans blowing in front of me and Pierre. We sat cross legged on the floor, sweating buckets and looking like two overcooked lobsters, our race suits tied around our waists and our fireproofs clinging to us.

"I'm telling you, Pierre, I've sweated out at least three liters already," I groaned, leaning closer to the fan, hoping it could somehow freeze me.

Pierre raised an eyebrow, with his usual smirk. "Three liters? Are you even human, Stephanie? Maybe we should start bottling it and sell it."

"Gross, you freaking baguette," I laughed, hitting him. "Nobody's buying that. If anything, they'd pay me not to make it."

He snorted, wiping the sweat off his forehead with a towel. "Speak for yourself. Mine would sell out in an hour. 'Pierre Cologne: Smells Like Victory.'"

"Smells like you haven't showered in a week," I shot back, grinning as his jaw dropped, offended.

"You wound me," he said dramatically, holding his chest. "And here I thought we were a team, Steph."

"We are," I said, smirking. "That's why I'm keeping you humble."

The fan rattled between us, barely making a dent in the overwhelming Qatar heat. The sun outside was merciless and the thought of being strapped into the cockpit of the car for an hour and a half felt like some cruel joke.

Pierre tilted his head, studying me. "You know, I think this heat is getting to you. You're funnier than usual."

"Or maybe you're just easier to impress today," I countered. "The heat's melting your brain."

"Fair," he admitted with a shrug. "Though, between you and me, I'd take brain melting heat over last year's Imola chaos any day."

I giggled. "Speak for yourself. At least in the rain, I don't feel like I'm cooking alive."

We sat in silence for a moment, the kind that only comes when you've spent months racing alongside someone who understands every high, every low, and every sweaty in between.

Then my race engineer's voice called out to me, breaking the moment. "Stephanie, can you come over? We need to go over some last minute details before the race."

Pierre raised an eyebrow. "Ouuuu, you're in troubleeee."

I groaned, reluctantly getting to my feet. "Great. More things to think about while I'm trying not to pass out in the car."

"You'll be fine," Pierre said, waving me off. "You're basically invincible."

"Oh, absolutely," I said, rolling my eyes as I grabbed my towel and draped it over my shoulders. "Tell that to the sweat puddle I'm leaving behind."

He grinned. "I'll guard it with my life."

"Thanks, Pierre. Real teammate behavior."

As I walked toward my engineer, Pierre called after me, "Don't let them put more things in your head, Steph! It's already too crowded in there!"

I shot him a dirty look over my shoulder. "Focus on your own crowded head, Gasly!"

His laugh echoed through the garage and despite the heat, I couldn't help but smile. Because as much as the Qatar GP was going to be a grueling annoying race, moments like this made it all worth it.