Archive of Our Own

Daniel feels like someone has run one of those cheese cutters through him. Cut right down the middle, he's been now split into two parts: two halves of himself that are constantly at odds with each other. 

On the one hand, Daniel 1 can't be any fucking happier to finally be out of McLaren. He's sick of trying to pull the best out of a car that's been constructed and designed for Lando, and that doesn't suit his driving at all. 2021's saving grace was Monza, but 2022 just straight up sucked .

How did he manage to go from winning races to struggling to get into Q2? 

It's tough, alright. And the worst of it is that once you start struggling mentally, not even the car can save you: he could've been driving Max's Red Bull, for all it mattered. If Daniel wasn't there in his head, there was no saving the race. 

It starts really weighing in on him by the middle of the season. He can't sleep, he can't make himself chat to the drivers before getting in the car. He struggles putting on weight, as skinny then as he ever has been, much to Michael's mounting worry.

His smile feels brittle when he aims it at the press. 

Everyone around him must notice, he's sure - that's the issue with always standing out and making noise. When you don't feel like being the classroom clown for once, people raise their eyebrows.

So yeah, he's not sorry he's leaving McLaren for good. He's pretty sure he would've puked if he had to sit through another one of Zak's stupid-ass speeches. It's already bad enough that orange is ruined for Daniel forever. 

That same Daniel is the part of him that's happy to fit into his Red Bull polos again. He's got mostly good memories from his years back at Milton Keynes: most of his wins, a team that actually cared for him. Max.

But that's where the issues start for Daniel 2. You see, while Daniel 1 is proud and wishes with a vengeful and unwarranted spite that Piastri does shit next season, Daniel 2 is a lot more worried about the future. Or his lack thereof, that is. 

Christian's let him back in, yes, after four years of trying to make a home for himself and failing miserably. And the worst of it all is that Daniel is grateful , because this is better than nothing. Yeah, he'd gotten offers from Haas and Williams, but racing in one of those cars is not much better than not racing at all. Taking their pity offers would've only served to continue his slow but steady downward spiral into irrelevance. At least this way he gets to stay close to the real action - and to Pérez's soon-to-be-expired contract, or that's what Michael had argued at least. Has this been the right decision? Only time will tell. 

Daniel half-wonders if Max had spoken to Christian and convinced him to take Daniel back. Not because he thinks Max would ever offer charity to anyone - not if he respects you as a driver - but because Daniel can't imagine Christian being charitable himself, especially after Daniel left the team like that in 2018.

But what was Daniel supposed to do? Had he stayed, he would've lived in Max's shadow forever, always his own team's second priority. And the thing is that he gets it: that Max is amazing, a prodigy capable of outclassing Lewis fucking Hamilton, born to race. 

The problem is that Daniel knows himself, and he knows he wouldn't have handled it well. He already wasn't by the end of the 2018 season, and he can't say he imagines the situation would've gotten any better had he stayed. So instead of letting himself become the Rosberg to Max's Hamilton, he packed his bags and left. 

'Was it something I said?' , Max had said. 

'It was the things you didn't say', Daniel had replied while sitting for the last time on that stupid couch. But that's not true: Max had said plenty. He'd been angry and annoyed at Daniel like he always seemed since Baku, frown permanently marring his already angular features. 

"It is true?", he'd asked, barging into Daniel's driver room without even knocking. Daniel had been halfway through pulling on a fresh t-shirt, arms in but head still out. 

He fakes he doesn't know what Max is asking about because he himself is annoyed, and tired and unsure, and it all grates at his nerves painfully. He knows it won't go down well with Max, and he couldn't care less. "What is true?", he replies while he finishes working himself into his navy blue polo. They both match. 

"Don't play dumb with me", and yeah, Daniel knew this was gonna happen. "Christian just told me you're leaving? To fucking Renault of all places?".

The casual disregard of his new team only serves to add extra pressure to all the anger boiling inside of Daniel. "I wanted to tell you myself, but yes, it's true", he says, and he watches something flash through Max's features. "This will be my last season with Red Bull".

"Why? Why are you leaving? This is your home, your team. Of course our car is better. You won't be as fast with Renault as you are here".

"I know that, Max". God, he sounds like an angry parent or something. 

"Then why?". That same something moves through Max again, making his expression drop a bit. It looks like something akin to sadness, but if sadness could turn violent at any moment. Frustration, perhaps? "Is it me? Are you leaving because of me?". When Daniel only looks at him and sighs, Max keeps going. "Seriously? I'm the reason why you're going to fucking Renault?". He spits the name of the team out like it has personally attacked his mother or something. 

Daniel tries to keep his cool. "It's not just you, Max. It's a whole bunch of problems with the team and the car". 

"But I'm part of it". Daniel hates the way he says it, almost… Fragile. Almost vulnerable. Max is not fragile - the aggressive veneer is not just for show. He's tough as nails. Max shouldn't sound like that, ever.

Daniel can't help but sigh again. "Look Max, there's a lot of things I've taken into account, and I promise you I've thought long and hard about this, but...Yes, Max, you're part of it". 

They don't discuss it anymore. Someone knocks on Daniel's door - Michael, coming round for Daniel's scheduled massage. He's almost knocked backwards by Max as he makes his way out without another word or look back to where Daniel is standing in the middle of the room, heart a bit more broken than it was ten minutes ago. 

"Phew", Michael whistles, staring pointedly at Max's rapidly retreating back. "What was that about?". 

"Nothing", Daniel replies, even though Michael can tell it's not true.

Anyway, the point is that the way Daniel left back in 2018 wasn't pretty, and he's fairly sure Christian would rather cut his wrists than give Daniel his seat back. 

But Daniel can only wait and hope for the best. 

—

He tries to face the winter break in the most positive way he's able to. 

He goes home to Perth and the farm welcomes him back. His parents are there, and his sister too, and they all hug him hello and ask how he is, and pointedly don't mention his plans for next year.

It's good to be back, actually. He keeps in shape by going on hikes with childhood friends he hasn't actually hung out with in years and riding the bike around the farm, but for the first time in god knows how long, he's free to rest and to eat like a normal person. He sleeps and takes naps under the warm Australian sun, builds up a nice tan and takes stupid selfies that go right to Instagram. 

It's good, as long as he doesn't let the existential dread sink in. That is all Daniel 2 - the asshole that whispers in his ear at night that he doesn't have a seat for 2023 and that he probably won't for 2024 either; that his days are over; that he's done. He tries to ignore Daniel 2 as much as possible these days. Daniel 1 seems more productive. 

—

Winter testing starts up in the blink of an eye. He's not really needed in Milton Keynes, and isn't that a weird thought? That for the first time in over a decade he's not climbing inside a brand new car this time of the year. 

He still goes though. He's a development driver after all, and other than being Christian's personal dancing monkey, he actually has to get on the sim as part of his obligations. So he does, and it feels nostalgic as fuck waltzing into the offices like is 2018 and not 2023. The guys at the reception greet him like an old friend.

Not much has changed. Well, actually, the trophy room is a lot more cramped now. Daniel walks in and sees his own face staring back at him, right next to Max's. There he is, still young and gangly in this photo, holding his first P1 trophy with the biggest smile on his face. Clearly the people who call Daniel 'the smile of the paddock' haven't looked at Max properly, he thinks.

The couch they used to record their stupid PR videos is gone. Shame, Daniel actually kind of liked it, even though the back of it was way too short to actually be comfortable. Maybe that was part of Red Bull's design: to keep the drivers on their toes at all times, lest they relax. 

"I knew you'd be here", someone says from behind, and Daniel immediately knows who it is. He could never mistake that voice for anyone else. 

Max smiles at him when their eyes meet. He looks well-rested, clean shaven this time, like a big boy ready for his first day at school. And that's what he is, isn't it? A big boy. Max today is a far cry from the skinny teenager they'd handed to him halfway through 2016.

Daniel can't help but feel the corners of his mouth lift into a smile as well. "Hey, Maxy. How are ya, mate?". Daniel moves in to hug him, and Max still goes easily, after all these years. Daniel's arms hold him tight for a second, feeling how his now blocky build fits against his own, then release him. 

"I'm good", he replies. "How was your summer? You look very tan". 

Daniel laughs, and it echoes through the room. Max's lips keep the smile, relaxed and happy. "Well, it's easy when I'm standing next to you. You're as pale as ever, mate". 

"Yeah well, it's actually winter in Europe, you know. Harder to go to the beach and all that", he says in that scratchy voice of his. Daniel's always liked the way it resonates in his ears. "You should invite me to Australia next time, then we'll see who tans the best". 

The comment catches Daniel completely off-guard. So he laughs again automatically, although this time a part of his brain is caught up on the whole 'invite me to Australia' thing. Before he can even process the words that are coming out of his mouth, his dumbass brain comes up with: "Next year then. You're welcome anytime at my farm, Max". 

And Max smiles and says: "Great, I'll hold you to that". Daniel doesn't quite understand where that came from, but he can't help but reciprocate. And then Max goes and adds: "You look good in Red Bull blue". 

Something shifts inside of Daniel at the comment - something bashful and electric that he knows he shouldn't feel. So he ignores it.

—

Daniel thought that Max would go talk to his mechanics or something, but he actually follows Daniel to the sim. Hangs around as well as the development team walk him through what they need of him, the tweaks and modifications they want to test on the car. 

Daniel gets on the first trial run, fitting himself into the seat like he's done a hundred times before. He hasn't driven a Red Bull in years, whether real or simulated, so he's a bit worried about embarrassing himself at first, but he's pleasantly surprised when it comes right back to him as soon as he starts the engine. Obviously many things have changed: there's some understeer that he's not used to, and the brakes certainly feel different than he remembers, for starters. But the principle of it is the same.

It's kinda like slipping into old clothes you haven't worn in a while: they don't quite fit like they used to, but they still feel familiar and comfortable. 

He finishes the round in the sim, and then they load another one for him, and another one. His brain slips into that thin gray area where he's perfectly focused on the circuit, the zone if you will. He can almost feel the car under him. 

By the time they break him out of it while the engineers go through the simulation data and review his results, he's not sure how long he's been driving for. What he does know is that Max is still there, behind him, watching.

He hands Daniel a water bottle, knocking it gently against his shoulder. "Nice job. You were getting better by the end". 

Daniel just looks at him, taking the bottle and lifting himself out of the sim. His right knee makes an uncomfortable cracking sound when he stretches his leg - fuck, he's getting old. "Thanks. Have you been there the whole time?", Daniel asks eventually, right before taking a few gulps of water. He hadn't realized he was thirsty. 

"Yeah. You didn't notice?". Daniel shakes his head no, and Max looks at him approvingly in return. "Good. That means you vibed with the car". 

Daniel cringes. He can't help it. It's the kind of thing Lando would say. "'Vibed' with the car, Max? Really?". 

Max just shrugs, unbothered. "Lando said you weren't vibing with the McLaren". Aaand Daniel just knew it. 

"So if I vibe with the Red Bull will you let me drive yours?", Daniel asks, and then resists a giggle as Max's face scrunches up unhappily.

"I think Checo's car is better, actually". And Daniel does laugh this time. Head thrown back a little and everything.

He shoves lightly at Max's shoulder, feeling for a brief moment the solid muscle underneath. "Cheater. How about you go do your own work or something and leave me do my thing, huh?". 

"Sure", Max replies with an awkward shuffle of his feet. "Text me if you need anything, okay?". 

Aw, Maxy Max. Were you checking up on me?

"Will do, Maximilian", he says, tone more fond that he would like to use in front of the engineers, but Daniel just can't help himself. Max makes a weird half-nod and then turns to leave, and before Daniel has had the chance to think anything through, his mouth is opening up again and he's saying: "Hey Max! You wanna get a beer later?". Like we used to back then. 

Something like a grimace passes through Max's face. "Sorry, I can't, I'm meeting Kelly for dinner. She's here for a couple days", he says, expression awkwardly remorseful. 

Daniel waves him away. "Don't sweat it, mate".

"But next time, we can. If you want to, of course", he adds hastily. "Are you coming again tomorrow?". 

Daniel shakes his head. "My services aren't needed, but I'll be around on Thursday". 

"Thursday then". 

Daniel gives him another one of his smiles, then winks. "It's a date then". Max's expression stutters for a moment, then smiles too.

—

He can't avoid Christian for long, but he actually manages to not meet Helmut face to face the entire week, which is a win on Daniel's books. 

Christian hugs him and claps him in the back. "Welcome home, Daniel" he says, well within earshot of the engineers in the room. Daniel smiles and takes it as gracefully as he can. 

Thursday rolls around in the blink of an eye, and by the time he's finishing up discussing the latest test run with his now favorite engineer (her name is Katya, she's got two kids and a wicked sense of humor), there's a couple texts from Max sitting in Daniel's inbox. 

They're completely unremarkable.

'Meet you by the parking lot?'

'Let me know when you're done'.

And yet, they make something warm and nostalgic blossom in Daniel's chest. It's not like Daniel and Max haven't spoken these last four years: they have, and often around the paddock. But the almost casual familiarity they shared as teammates never came back, and that included regular texting. Daniel scrolls up their conversation and sees their latest messages: happy birthdays and happy holidays and see you at the next races, sparse and spread out throughout the year. 

So yeah, the casual texting about when and how to meet up, even though it's completely ordinary, gives Daniel a sweet ping of happiness that he doesn't want to examine too closely.

Max is already waiting for him when Daniel waves him down, a winter jacket on and a scarf wrapped around his neck. He looks awkwardly expensive, like he's doing it against his will.

"Hey mate", he greets Max, pulling his own scarf down so it doesn't cover his mouth. His fingers are fucking freezing. "Have you been waiting long?". 

"Not at all", Max says, looking unbothered. Daniel would worry about him lying to avoid making Daniel feel guilty for being late, but - it's Max. If there's someone who's going to give you the facts straight, it's him. 

They drive up to a nice little pub near the factory. It's a bit annoying sometimes because that's where most of the staff end up after clocking out, but there is a familiarity to the tradition that Daniel can appreciate. So they sit down in a corner booth and order a couple beers. Daniel makes a mental note to pay the tab. 

Max seems a bit awkward maybe, at least judging by the way he keeps spinning around his phone on the table, so Daniel brings up the one topic that Max cannot resist: racing, of course. 

"How's the car looking this year? The sim feels pretty good", he asks, and Max's attention focuses immediately. 

"It's good, but I'm a bit worried about power this season. GP says it should be the same as last year, but sometimes I feel it drop on straights". Daniel is happy to watch him talk about the little intricacies of the car, about how this and the other feels, how he's certain they can go for a third championship this year. He's also sure to stomp down the dark creeping jealousy he feels at Max's words, and he thinks he succeeds. Mostly. 

So he takes consistent sips of his beer, and is soon ordering a second one. Not enough to get him drunk, but enough to loosen him up a bit. 

"Will you be driving the car soon?", Max asks.

"Yeah, next week. But they won't let me within a two mile radio of yours", Daniel replies. "I'll take Checo's for a spin though". 

Max's glass is empty as well, only a thin layer of white foam left at the bottom of it. Daniel lifts a hand and orders him another one as well. 

"Don't break it please. I'm sure someone would think I asked you to crash it or something". Max tries to make it sound like a joke, but it falls painfully flat. 

Daniel thanks the server as she places the fresh beer on the table, and waits until she's gone before continuing. "So I take it things haven't been too good with Checo?". Daniel can't say he blames Checo for being angry though. He'd seen the footage of Interlagos: what Max pulled there wasn't cool. 

Max shrugs. "Things can be however he wants them to be". 

"Give him a break, okay? The curse of the second seat is tough". 

Max frowns like he doesn't know what Daniel is talking about. "There's no curse, don't be silly". 

"You sure about that?", Daniel replies, eyebrows lifting up. "I'm sorry to say this, Max, but driving under you is not easy. It's hard living up to the legend". 

"So you're saying driving with me is a curse?", Max replies, tone dangerously sharp. 

"You know that's not what I meant", Daniel says, pacifying. "But you're a hard standard for people to measure themselves against. You were too much for both Gasly and Albon, and now Checo is struggling as well". 

Max looks at him. "You lasted three years". 

"Two and a half, actually. And I left, Maxy". Max just looks at him, eyes so intense and so blue that for a moment Daniel can't look away. 

Soon, their second beers are dry as well.

—

Daniel zips up his brand new racing suit, dark blue instead of papaya and reminiscent of better times. They make him a new helmet as well, which he appreciates - Daniel had gotten to participate in the design, and it looks dope as fuck if he dare say so himself. It's mostly soft colors and gentle curved lines, but with a hint of glittering gold in the lining that matches Max's own. If the designing team catch the reference, they choose to say nothing about it.

Checo's in the garage when Daniel walks out, arms crossed and surrounded by engineers. They've never been particularly close, to be honest, but they're civil. He wonders if it's because Checo perceives Daniel as Max-adjacent, and therefore not a friend, or because now Daniel could be a hypothetical threat to his seat. Daniel doesn't know, and doesn't really care to either.

Either way Checo greets him with a smile and a "Hey, man". 

Daniel returns the greeting, offering out his hand for Checo to take and squeeze - it's all very manly. "Take care of her, yes?", he says, good-naturedly. 

"Of course", Daniel replies, like the car didn't use to be his.

So Daniel straps his new helmet under his chin and slips into the cockpit. They've changed the seat and adjusted it for Daniel (his hips are too wide, apparently), so it's a good fit. Not comfortable, because F1 cars are never comfortable, but good enough. 

The engine feels alive around Daniel, the vibrations of the car wild in a way his McLaren could never quite match. "Are you ready, Daniel?", says Hugh through the radio. 

"Yes", he replies, half-excited to drive the fastest car on the grid and half-remorseful that it will never be his. "Ready for the go signal". 

And away he goes. It's an easy session - just a few laps to get a sense of how the car feels, the new modifications they're trying out. So Daniel takes it easy the first five laps, trying to get the feeling of the car and noting all the differences, both big and small, with the sim. "Looking great, Daniel. How's the car feeling?", comes in the staticky voice in his ear.

"Good. Fast", he says, clipped, into his microphone.

On the sixth lap, however, Daniel sends it.

Full throttle, late breakings and flat out straights, Daniel drives like he's running Q3 for a championship-deciding race. He doesn't know why he suddenly can do it, why he feels so immediately in sync with the car when he struggled for months with the fucking McLaren, but it's like he can feel the car all of the sudden. It's a beautiful machine, that's for sure: as delicate as it is wild, Daniel can't imagine what he could've done with it had he had had it six years ago. 

So he keeps it up. He drives like a maniac for one lap, then another, then another one, and he's managed to stay fairly in shape during the break but soon his neck starts straining uncomfortably against the headrest. He keeps pushing. 

By the time he's being called into the garage, Daniel is both exhausted and exhilarated. "Amazing lap times, Daniel", Hugh says with a tilt of surprise in his voice. Daniel laps up the praise up hungrily. "Come in and we'll defrief, okay?"

"Understood", Daniel replies. "Thank you, guys". 

He takes his time driving back to the garage, slowing down and taking the corners gently. He'll get to drive all throughout testing, of course, so it's not like this will be the last time he'll get in the cockpit, but Daniel 2 feels like they should try to treasure the moment. Just in case.

So he parks the car in the right spot and gets a couple pats in the back from the engineers as he climbs out of the car - a few familiar faces whose smiles Daniel appreciates, at least when he reminds himself that they're not out of pity, but actual happiness at his performance. 

Daniel can drive. He can and he will, if given the chance again. He's here to remind both Red Bull and the other teams in the paddock of that. 

He takes off the helmet and the sweaty balaclava, feeling his curls bounce free on his head at the movement. He's thanking another one of the engineers, taking off his earpieces and letting them hang where they're connected to his suit, when he looks further to the garage in order to look for Hugh, and instead finds Max staring right at him. He blinks when Daniel smiles, straightening up suddenly like he's been caught off-guard. 

"Hey, Max! Wrong garage, I'm afraid". Max scoffs, walking closer to where Daniel is still one-handedly loosening up the collar of the suit.

"Funny", he replies. Sarcastic little thing, Max Verstappen. Daniel clocks Checo standing a few feet apart, speaking with a couple men in matching Red Bull polos, apparently not very happy. It doesn't seem like he'd been standing anywhere near Max.

"Came to see me?", Daniel asks instead.

"To see the car, actually. Someone has to make sure that the testing drivers are actually driving and testing". 

Daniel's smile stretches further. "Look who's being funny now?". But Max giggles, so it's all good. 

Then his smile drops down, replaced by a serious frown. He's wearing a Red Bull cap as well, even though the garage is roofed and he doesn't need it at all. "But seriously though, that was some great driving, Hugh said you were faster than Checo. Shame Christian didn't see". Christian will surely hear about it, if Daniel can arrange for it.

"But I wasn't faster than you, was I?", Daniel asks, jokingly. Maybe he could eventually. With enough time to really understand the car and the track, maybe… Daniel's not sure.

Max laughs again. "Noup. Better luck next time". 

—

Daniel keeps visiting Milton Keynes often during the next few weeks of testing, for both sim runs and actual driving as well as promotion work. The PR team are apparently ecstatic to have him back on board, so they make him shoot tik toks and post on Instagram and brief him about the next few events he'll have to attend representing Red Bull. 

"You're a lifesaver, Daniel", one of the PR guys confesses during a lull in one of the briefings. His name is Sam. He wasn't there in Daniel's time but he seems nice enough. "Things have been tough lately". 

"You mean because of Max?", he ventures. Although Checo doesn't have the best of reps, being in opposition to Max has helped him play the sympathy card lately. Or so social media tells him. 

"Yeah, man. They haven't been… In the best of terms lately, as I'm sure Max has told you". And that's another thing Daniel has noticed since he came back: everyone seems to assume that he knows everything about Max. He doesn't. 

"Yeah well, I like Max just fine but it is true that sometimes he is…", Daniel stalls a bit, looking for the right words. "Well he's not the most PR-able driver on the grid, is he?". Max is fun, truly, he is, but while the years have softened a bit all of his jagged edges, they're still sharp to the touch. People can find him too straight-forward, too blunt. Too angry.

Sam just shakes his head, agreeing with Daniel. "No, he's not. Thank god you're here".

—

So Daniel poses for pictures and he attends events, smiling away at the cameras and promoting the Red Bull brand like they own him - which they kinda do. But anyway Sam's happy, so he must be doing a good job of not overselling it too much. 

He attends the car launch in New York as well. It's a packed weekend for everybody, and Daniel has to fly in a couple days ahead of the rest of the team to make his stellar appearance on the Late Show. 

He dials up the charm to the max for the interview, and Sam looks at him with stars in his eyes when he's done and they're backstage. Bless his heart, he might be the one that's the most excited about Daniel being back. 

And then the next day they drive to the official 2023 car launch. Daniel does wonder why they are doing this in New York of all places, given that Red Bull is an Austrian team and literally none of the key personnel are North American. Probably due to the sponsors, or to the new agreement with Ford, he wagers. 

Anyway, they hand him a microphone and they let him stand on stage with Max, Checo, Christian and the presenter, which is honestly more than he'd expected. 

The audience holds their breath when the RB19 is finally revealed, and then they clap and whistle. Daniel claps too, but catches Max's eye from where he's standing on the other side of the stage. Let's face it: it looks just like it does every year, and the modifications in the livery are completely minor. The good stuff is under it, anyway.

Daniel sees his chance when Christian and the presenter get engrossed in whatever they're speaking about (Daniel had only been half-listening, to be honest). He has to do an awkward little run across the stage, but he manages to place himself to Max's left. 

"Bet the fans were surprised with the livery, eh?", he asks, following Max's eyeline to where he's looking at the unveiled RB19. Daniel makes sure to keep the mic down so it doesn't pick up their conversation. 

"Of course the design is revolutionary. I don't know what you're talking about", he replies, and Daniel laughs. He watches half-amazed as Max faces him, straight up turning his back to the audience like Daniel is more important than them. Checo's started saying something, and out of the corner of his eye Daniel can see Christian staring at them with a frown. He doesn't really care, so Daniel ignores him.

"Literally the same livery since 2005. I should talk to the design guys now that I'm in development, maybe they'll listen to me". 

"Mmhm, maybe not, then", Max says, moving his head closer and towards Daniel's ear so he can be heard over the noise of the audience - over the noise of whoever is speaking into their mic. How dare they interrupt their conversation?

Daniel mocks offense. "What do you mean 'maybe not then'? I would make a sick car livery".

"I bet you would just fill it with your own tattoos". 

"And it would be sick!". Max laughs, so the silly banter is worth it. 

He's broken out of the trance when he hears Christian's voice cut in. "Right, Daniel?". Max turns to unobstruct Daniel's view, returning back to where he was facing the audience originally. 

Daniel has absolutely no idea what Christian has asked, so he just says "Right", and hopes to have made the correct choice. The audience laughs, so he knows he's bungled it, but it's fine. 

Daniel smiles and tries to own it, but stays focused on the presentation for the rest of it. Well, except for the brief times Max leans in and whispers something in his ear. Then he can't help the smile that spreads over his lips. 

—

They grab lunch afterwards. It's a big event, with the production team and all the Red Bull personnel involved, so they serve them a buffet backstage. Daniel's flying back to the UK in a few hours, so this works better for him than a fancy lunch anyway. 

He's not even surprised when Max gravitates to him and appears suddenly at his side, plate already in hand and piled with food. It's funny how quickly Daniel has gotten used to his presence at these kinds of events, how natural it still feels. 

"Fries are good", Max says, words slurring a bit as he chews. "You should get these". 

"Oh, sure", Daniel replies, and proceeds to grab a bunch from Max's plate. 

"Hey!", he protests, moving the plate out of Daniel's reach, but it's too late. Daniel's already shoving the fries into his mouth.

"Oh, shit. These are good". Max just stares at him in distaste as Daniel chews. 

"I'm never doing anything nice for you again. Ever". 

"Oh, come on, Maximus. I'm pretty sure these aren't allowed in your diet". Daniel wraps a hand around Max's shoulders, pulling him gently to Daniel's side. "And I know you can take a prank". Max snorts, but lets himself be pulled. His body is a warm line of muscle against Daniel. 

And that's how Christian finds them. "Having fun, boys?".

Daniel releases Max, letting him get back to his food and plastering on his Christian-pleasing smile. "Only a bit and never too much, sir". To his right, Max snorts again. 

"Well, let's keep it that way, alright? Not long now until the season starts again", he says, clapping Max on the shoulder like a proud father. Daniel has had many complaints about Christian over the years, but he will give him this: he's always treated Max more like a son than Jos ever has, at least in Daniel's own limited experience. He's seen Max flinch at Jos' contact, but never at Christian's. "Have a nice flight back, Daniel. I'll see you at the factory". 

"Thanks, Christian". And with a last squeeze to Max's arm, he mingles back into the Red Bull jackets.

"You're not staying for the weekend?", Max asks. 

"Nah, they want me back at Milton Keynes on Monday. Like Christian said, it's not long now until the season starts, and someone has got to get the cars ready, huh?". Max's forehead does that thing where it wrinkles a bit like he's trying not to frown. 

"Checo and I are staying here for a few days for promotional stuff, and then I have winter training and car testing, of course, so I won't be able to hang around so much". 

Daniel smiles. Max can be sweet when he wants to. "It's alright, Maxy. I'll make sure the cars are in tippy-top condition for you". 

"Thanks", he replies, all serious. Daniel appreciates that Max is taking Daniel's new role seriously. "I'll see you at the factory then, right?".

"Of course, Maxy", he says. "Come find me anytime you want". 

—

They do see each other throughout February, but it's not as often or for as long as Daniel's treacherous heart would want to. Max's life becomes busier and busier the closer they get to the start of the new season: if he's not out there in his car, then he's at the gym 24/7. They're running him ragged and he hasn't even started racing yet. 

But Max can take it. That's the thing about him: he was built from the ground up to take, and take and take, and resist it all. Literally bred to race.

So Daniel hangs around and does his job, sprinkling PR here and there for flavor, and watches Max go, pushing down the thoughts that whisper he wishes he was sitting on the other Red Bull. 

"Are you coming to Bahrain?", Max asks him. They're at the garage, Max sweaty in his racing suit and fresh out of the car, engineers milling about.

"Yeah, I'll probably go. Opening night and all". Max nods. He'll probably tell Daniel that they can fly out together, knowing him. He's kind like that as well. "But I won't be going to all the races".

"Melbourne though?"

That's the one that hurts the most, actually. His home track, except that now Daniel's not actually there anymore. Worst of all, he's literally been replaced by another Australian driver. But Daniel doesn't say any of that.

"Yeah, probably. Might stay home for a bit afterwards. See the family and all that".

"You have to invite me to Perth, then". Daniel raises his eyebrow. Honestly, he'd thought Max was just being polite when he mentioned Daniel inviting him over to the farm. He didn't actually expect him to want to go. 

"You won't be missed around here?".

Seeing his expression, Max shrugs. "There's like a whole month until Baku. Christian won't miss me if I spend a couple of days around". Daniel had been thinking more along the lines of Kelly instead of Christian, but okay. "That is of course if you do not mind me going".

"No, no, sure. I said you're welcome anytime and I meant it", Daniel smiles. "I'm sure my mom would love to see you, actually".

So Max smiles, and there's nothing Daniel can do about it. He tries not to dwell on the shape of Max's mouth when he does.

—

Bahrain is just as hot and dry as always, but the roar of the crowd and the bustle of the paddock still give Daniel the jitters. It's like when you're little and the first day of the school year rolls around: Daniel gets all of this nervous energy that he doesn't know what to do with. 

He dons his Red Bull merch and tries to blend into the background, although some fans still recognize him and ask to take pictures. It's nice though, knowing that some people still care about him and his career. 

But most of the time, he stays in the Red Bull garage. And if he chooses to sit on Max's side of it instead of Checo's, well, nobody asks why. 

He does make the trip down to the Alpha Tauri facilities, where Michael wraps him in his arms and pats his back affectionately. "There you are", he says. "I was starting to think I was gonna have to go rip you out of Horner's grabby hands". 

Daniel laughs. "They do let me come and go as I please, you know? I haven't been kidnapped".

"Well it sure as hell doesn't seem like it, considering how much time they keep you at the factory". 

Daniel shrugs. "It's okay. I like being useful to the team. It's better than sitting around and doing nothing". Daniel watches as a couple mechanics give them weird looks. Come on, I'm dressed in Red Bull merch. We're basically cousins now, I'm not spying on you. "How've you been, mate?".

Michael's left eye makes a little ticking motion. "Good. Very good", he says. 

"Okay. But?"

"But trying to hold Tsunoda down is like wrestling with an eel", he says, hushed so nobody but Daniel will hear. It's so monotone and rushed that it startles Daniel into a laugh. "Seriously man, he does not follow the diet. And he skimps on the exercises. He tries to pretend like he doesn't, but I know he does". 

"He's a free soul, mate. You gotta let him be". 

"It is literally my job to not let him be". Daniel misses the times when Michael's complaints were about him, and not other drivers. It's okay. We'll get there again. "Anyway, mate, how about you? We should go out for a beer tonight". 

"Yeah mate, ring me up". It's easy, both Red Bull and Alpha Tauri are staying at the same hotel. Sister teams and all that. 

Michael's face sobers up a bit then, and Daniel knows what he's about to ask. "How's Max?". 

Michael had had front row tickets to the 2018 fallout. Well, it's not fair to any of them to say that Daniel and Max fell out, because they didn't - they still talked around the paddock, still hung out if their schedules matched. But a certain distance grew between them after Daniel's breakup with Red Bull, and Michael knows firsthand how hard that was on Daniel. 

But he doesn't want to talk about it, so he just looks at Michael and says: "Good, he's doing good. Probably gonna beat both your boys tomorrow". 

Michael scoffs. "My boys can beat themselves out of the competition just fine. Well, I'm not being fair to Nyck. He actually listens to me when I speak". 

—

Sunday rolls around in the blink of an eye and suddenly Daniel is on the tarmac watching as Max straps in his helmet, securing it under his chin. The Bahrain sun glints off the golden lion, making the design shimmer under it. Daniel can't help himself.

Before he even knows what he's doing he's grabbed Max with both hands, one on his shoulder and the other one on his helmet, directing his head gently towards Daniel's face. "Keep their heads ringin', Maxy", he says, low enough that only he can hear. Most of Max's face is obscured by the helmet, but Daniel can still see the way his eyes crinkle at the corners in the shape of a smile. 

"Of course", he says, bringing a gloved hand to Daniel's arm and squeezing. Daniel lets him go then, watching as Max climbs into the car and the mechanics strap him in. Soon enough they're all clearing out, going back to their garage. Daniel follows. 

He sits next to GP, headphones on, and watches the race in silence. It's curious how all of that nervous energy he had at the beginning of the weekend disappears in a cloud of smoke when the red lights go off. I should be there , he thinks. I will be back there. For now though, he watches. 

The RB19 holds up to last season, but the Ferraris are faster this year, and Max has to fight Leclerc off the entire race. Daniel can hear the strain in his voice when he radios in - strain, yes, but never panic.

It doesn't matter, because he still crosses the line first. Daniel runs with the mechanics all the way to the barriers to see Max dismount the car and raise his fists into the air. A well-deserved victory all around, Daniel thinks, considering how tough it was to keep the Ferraris at bay. They're P2 and P3, which is not a bad start to the season at all - just worse than Max's. 

He comes around to the barrier and throws himself into the Red Bull crowd, laughing and screaming. Daniel manages to get a hand on his helmet, although Max probably doesn't notice. It's fine, it doesn't matter.

Max stands proud at the top of the podium for the first time in 2023, Leclerc to his right and Sainz to his left, while the Netherlands anthem plays - they've all heard it so much that at this point it feels almost as familiar as Daniel's own. Max scans the crowd and Daniel could almost swear that their eyes meet. Max smiles. 

—

They go out and celebrate that night. Not too hard, because Checo didn't manage to finish the race - a dodgy move from Sargeant sent him into the wall halfway through the race, so only half points for Red Bull in Bahrain, but still, Max deserves at least a beer for his first win of the season. 

"To many more to come", Daniel says for their first toast at the hotel bar. The crowd cheers, throwing back their glasses, and Daniel does as well, watching as Max laughs and sips on his own drink. 

"Good job, mate", Daniel says, wrapping his free arm around Max's sturdy shoulders. "Going straight for number three this year, huh?".

"Three's my favorite number so". Max pronounces 'three' like 'tree' and it is terribly charming, and Daniel has to ignore the fact that while he can't wear his racing number on his team equipment anymore, the 3 tattooed onto his pinky burns his skin where it wraps around his drink, fully on display. 

For a moment Daniel just stares at Max, not sure what to say next, and Max stares back. He scrambles for something to say, breaking the silence with a laugh. "If you like it so much you should go back to 33, instead of this number 1 nonsense". 

"You're just jealous I can take the number 1", Max replies. 

Daniel half shrugs. "I think it's a bit cheeky, if I'm honest. That with the golden helmet and the golden boots". 

Max couldn't care less. "I think it looks cool. And Seb used the number 1 as well, when he was in Red Bull". 

"You do you, Maxy. God knows you always do", Daniel says, patting his shoulder. Max opens his mouth like he's about to add something, when a couple of his mechanics come around to congratulate him on his win. Daniel lets him go, although he's not alone for long. 

Michael lets their beer bottles clink as they rest their backs on the bar. "You used to look better in orange, you know? Blue and white is not your thing", Daniel says, pointing dismissively at Michael's branded outfit, just to rile him up. Michael had hated McLaren just as much as him. 

"You looked like shit in it though", is the reply Daniel gets in return. The papayas had had a meh race, as usual: Piastri had ended up 12th, well behind Lando, much to Daniel's sick satisfaction. "Your boy did well". 

Daniel follows the direction Michael's looking at, and finds Max chatting happily to GP, signing with his hands. Probably explaining something GP doesn't need to know, or already does. "He's not my boy. And yeah, he's doing well. He'll probably be world champion again, I reckon". 

Michael watches him silently for a moment and brings the bottle to his lips. "What about Pérez? This can't be very good for their relationship, you know, you all celebrating here for Verstappen after he fucked it into the wall like that". 

"Not really my problem, man". Michael's probably right though, Daniel had seen the way Checo had stormed off into his driver's room after making it back to the garage. "In this team what Max wants, Max gets". 

And just like he'd heard Daniel call his name all the way from across the bar, Max turns around and catches his eye, smiling when he finds Daniel already staring back. 

—

Daniel doesn't go to Saudi Arabia, but Jeddah is not as kind to Max as Bahrain was. He manages to scrape P2, sandwiched between Leclerc and Russell, and Daniel can tell by watching his posture on the podium that he's not happy with the result. He turns off the TV before they can cut to the interviews.

Checo had been P6 behind Hamilton and Sainz, P5 and P4 respectively, so by the time Albert Park fills up with fans, Ferrari is leading the Constructors Championship, even if Max is still first amongst the drivers.

Melbourne is a bittersweet experience for Daniel. There are still many fans wearing his merch, but there are a few orange 81s around now. Still, he walks around the gates and signs autographs and takes pictures, pretending it doesn't hurt not to have his family around here for the first time in years.

"Ah, there you are", Max greets him when Daniel walks into the garage. He's getting ready to start qualifying - frankly, he shouldn't even be wasting time speaking to Daniel. "Lots of number 3s around". 

"Oh, didn't you know? Australian fans are rooting for you, but they fucked up and printed only the first three on the merch". 

Max giggles. "I told you, I'm not dropping the number one". 

"Don't blame a man for trying". 

Max is fast out there, as fast as always, and secures pole position for the race. On Sunday, he wins again, while Checo manages to move up to P4 in the last lap. 

There's already talks of Checo's lackluster performance this season, and while Daniel listens to the rumors, he doesn't want to let any kind of hope take root in his chest. So he ignores the mounting tension in the Red Bull garage as best as he can, and tries to give Checo space when they're pitted together for press pictures. 

Daniel stays behind and helps the mechanics pack up while Max gives his interviews, then showers and changes. By the time he emerges from the hospitality, still a bit damp and flushed, the Red Bull facilities are half-organized. Kinda.

"Are you ready to go?", he asks Daniel. 

"Yep. Let me grab my stuff". 

"Oh, are you leaving together, guys?", someone pipes in behind Daniel. It's Sam, actually, also known as Daniel's new shadow, apparently. Why is the PR team still here anyway?

"Yeah", Daniel says, trying to find an explanation that doesn't seem too weird. "Max is coming over to Perth for a couple of days. The parents miss him, you know". Obviously, he fails miserably. 

But Sam nods and smiles like what Daniel said makes complete sense. "Well, enjoy your time off guys! I'll see you back in the UK. And by the way, congratulations Max on the win".

"Thanks, mate", Max replies, and they're off. They drive out to Melbourne International and board the red eye to Perth - in a normal airplane, mind you, no private jets for Daniel anymore. Max is conked out as soon as his head touches the headrest, even though his neck angles awkwardly against the seat. He's gonna have the worst crick in his neck when he wakes up, but Daniel can't bring himself to shake him awake. Instead, he fishes his neck pillow from his backpack, pulls his headphones on, and tries to catch on some Zs himself. 

He's almost asleep, half-aware of his fading consciousness, when he's startled awake by something touching his shoulder. It's Max, he sees out of the corner of his eye, head now half-lying on the edge of Daniel's pillow, half on his shoulder. Daniel rearranges himself a little bit straighter, so the pillow will sit a bit higher for Max and his head won't be so bent down, and then he closes his eyes and goes to sleep as well. 

He's not sure how long it is until the flight announcements wake him up, but by that time Max is already awake and aimlessly scrolling through pictures on his phone. "Oh hey, good morning", he says when he sees Daniel stirring. "Did you get some sleep?"

Daniel wonders how Max had reacted when he woke up lying against Daniel. If he'd found it weird, if he'd straightened up as soon as he noticed and prayed nobody had seen them. 

If he had wanted to stay curled up next to Daniel instead. 

Daniel shakes the stray thoughts off and blames them on his sleepiness. "Morning, Maxy. I did, thanks". 

"We're landing soon", Max says as Daniel sits up and rubs his eyes. 

"Great". 

Daniel had told his parents not to come get them at the airport, but he spots the unruly curls that could only belong to his mother right away. 

"Mum, what are you doing here?", he complains, but stills goes easily when she wraps him up in her arms and squeezes the life out of him. He's happy to see her anyway. 

"Can't a mother come pick up her son?", she fires back. Then she turns to where Max has been watching them, hanging back a bit. "Oh and Max, it's been so long". 

"Hi Grace, how are you?", he says with a smile, and she hugs him as well. 

His mom drives them to the farm, which Daniel finds a little funny, considering she's chauffeuring for two professional drivers. She does not care. Daniel feels weird leaving her alone in the front, so he sits shotgun while Max stays in the back. "How was Melbourne, boys?".

"Good. Busy as always. Oh, by the way, Michael says hi", Daniel says. 

"Why didn't you bring him as well?".

"I don't know, he had plans with his girlfriend or something". His mom tuts disapprovingly - Michael has been a permanent feature of Daniel's life for so long that he's basically family for his parents. 

"Did you watch the race?", Max asks from the back. 

"No, I didn't. I still get nervous, you know?". The 'even though Daniel's not racing anymore' hangs unspoken between them. "Your father did, though. Congratulations, Max!". 

"Thanks", Max says with a smile. 

His dad greets and hugs them both as well when they park down at the farm. "It's good to see you, Max", he says while he pats his shoulder affectionately. 

Daniel makes an affronted noise. "What about me?".

"I see enough of you, mate", he says, but he pats him as well for good measure. 

Max and Daniel stay at the second house: it's the small add-on Daniel's been using since he started racing professionally and his parents declared him too old to share the house with them when he stays over. It's got two bedrooms, so Michael has used the spare room a lot as well. 

"Home sweet home", Daniel says as he opens the door and holds it for Max. 

—

They take the day easy: they sleep for a couple hours, and then spend the rest of the day at the farm, too tired from the weekend race and the traveling to do much more.

So Daniel shows Max around and forces him to help feed the chickens and the horses. Then, he takes him to the shed where they store the bikes, and they race around like kids until the sun starts moving down towards the horizon. 

"This is nice", Max says, a bit sweaty now that he's taken his helmet off. The setting sun turns his hair from dirty blond to golden. It's getting a bit longer now - Daniel prefers it this way. He likes the way it falls gently to the side of Max's face, softening his features. "It must've been nice to grow up out here".

"Sure was, Maxy. When the goats weren't trying to chew on my hair". Max's laugh echoes in the field.

They put the bikes away and wander over to the main house to beg for dinner, only to find his dad already putting meat on the barbecue. "Dad, I love you", Daniel says when he sees him, walking over to kiss his cheek. His dad pretends to be grossed out while Max looks with a half-smile. Daniel's afraid it might look a little sad, so he grabs his arm and gives him a tour of the house. 

Max lingers in Daniel's old bedroom, which has now been converted into a small racing shrine where his parents have stored all the karting and F1 memorabilia they own. Daniel lingers by the door while Max examines all the photos there, a delighted expression plastered on his face the entire time.

"Oh my god, look at you", he exclaims as he picks up a framed picture taken right before Daniel's first F1 race. "That is adorable". 

"Oh please, I look like I got bullied in school. Which I didn't, mind you, but not thanks to my good looks". 

Max shrugs, unbothered. "I don't know, I think you looked cute. Even when you wore the braces". And then Daniel's heart stutters for a second because Max looks at him and it feels genuine . That he thinks Daniel looked cute, even when he knows he looked painfully awkward at best. 

"Nothing money can't fix", he replies, wandering over to where Max is standing. He peruses the rest of the pictures until he finds one that makes him break a smile. "How about this one?", he says, and points to the still hung up on the wall. Daniel remembers the moment well: it's Malaysia, the podium where Max had done a shoey back in 2016. The picture shows a very young Max throwing back the champagne from Daniel's boot, eyes scrunched up in concentration (or pain) while Daniel watches proudly from the P1 step. 

Max looks over Daniel's shoulder, and Daniel can feel more than see his giggle. "I remember that very well. I think the taste still haunts me at night". 

Daniel chuckles lightly. "I think I enjoyed Rosberg's face the most". 

"Maybe he retired because you gave him PTSD". That earns Max a full laugh. 

"Yeah well, if you ignore the whole Hamilton situation, maybe". Daniel takes his eyes off the picture, letting them wander aimlessly over the display. "It's sad, don't you think?".

"What is sad?", asks Max, tone curious. 

"What happened to Nico and Lewis", Daniel explains, finding Max's eyes. He hadn't realized they were standing so close to each other. "How they used to be friends growing up, and by the end of it they couldn't even be together in the same room anymore". 

Max stares at him, and Daniel knows he's thinking about 2018, and about the way Daniel had left. "We could've handled it better", he says, decisive like he's convinced of the fact. "We wouldn't have ended like them". 

"You don't know that, Max. We were already starting to struggle by the end of the season".

"We wouldn't have. Ended like them. I know that, Daniel". Max has turned fully towards him, something delicate but fierce in his eyes. 

Daniel tries to smile, but it feels a bit brittle - he hopes it doesn't show too much. "Well, we didn't. So it's all good, right?". 

Max stares at him for a moment and breathes in like he's about to reply, but then his mum's voice can be heard downstairs. "Boys! Dinner's ready!".

"Coming!", Daniel replies, and the moment is lost.

—

The following day, Daniel takes Max into Perth, where they do all the obligatory touristic things anyone should. The weather is mild despite it starting to get a bit chillier these days, so Daniel takes Max along Kings Park and the Botanical Garden, and then leads him towards the harbor and the beach. They get ice creams anyway, and it's nice, although they get recognized a few times. There'll be pictures of both of them posted all over instagram and twitter by the end of the day. 

They're having lunch by the pier when Max's phone rings, and Daniel spies the name Kelly on the screen. "Do you mind if I take this?", Max asks, like it would be rude to answer your girlfriend when she calls or something. Daniel expects him to put the phone to his ear and answer right there, but instead Max gets up and walks towards the beach, phone in hand. 

Daniel tries to give him privacy, but he can't help but notice the way Max's body language tenses when he picks up the call. Normally it wouldn't be so noticable, but Daniel has experience in seeing Max relaxed and casual - hell, he'd been perfectly at ease just a minute ago. 

So he unblocks his own phone in order to try to stop staring. Twitter greets him immediately with a picture of the both of them, casual in sweatshirts and jeans, posing with a smiling fan in between them. Maxiel spotted in Perth , the caption reads. It's got way too many likes - Sam will be happy, Daniel thinks. 

It's a few more minutes until Max returns to the table. "Sorry about that", he says as he takes back his seat. 

"Don't sweat it, mate". But Daniel can't help but notice the tension around Max's mouth. "All good?".

Max looks at him for a fraction of a second. "Yeah. Yeah, all good", he says with a smile. Daniel doesn't comment on how forced it looks. 

—

They fire up the pit next to his parents' house after sundown. Max insists on roasting marshmallows even though Daniel tells him a hundred times that that's an American thing, but they do it anyway. After a couple beers he stops caring that much about the stupid marshmallows anyway. 

Daniel relaxes back into his chair, letting the night wash over him. The only sounds he can hear are the crickets, the crackling of the fire and Max's tiny shocked breaths as he burns the pads of his fingers grabbing the marshmallows when they're still too hot. 

It's good. Too good, even. Daniel closes his eyes and lets himself imagine a future where this is normal, where Max is just around . Like, all the time. 

They could keep the animals. They would need help, obviously, but Daniel knows his way around the farm and isn't scared of a little hands-on work. He pictures Max, burning pink under the Perth sun and playing with Michelle's kids, smiling away at their antics. He'd be good at it too, for sure. Happy. They could share the second house like they're doing now, close to Daniel's parents but enjoying their own privacy. 

No more dramas, no more press or cameras or questions about their future. Just a quiet life around here. Together. 

Would they need two bedrooms? Or only one?

"What are you thinking about?", Max asks suddenly, breaking him out of it. Daniel blinks one eye open to find him staring at Daniel from his seat next to him. His eyes look dark in the light of the fire. 

"Why do you ask?".

"I don't know. You looked happy", he says. Daniel tries to capture the mental image one last time, before it inevitably dissolves into nothing. 

Max could never be pulled away from the track. Even if he liked it here, he could never live without racing - Daniel would watch him shrivel up like a houseplant that's not getting enough sunlight, and he would hate himself for it. Jos would never allow it either, and Max cares too much about his opinion despite everything that man has done to him. 

And well, there's Kelly. She probably wouldn't take too kindly to his boyfriend moving in with someone else. 

Max's frown deepens the longer he watches Daniel. "Nothing interesting, Maxy", he says instead. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it". 

—

Max spends the next morning helping out Daniel's parents around the house, much to everyone's collective dismay. "You're a guest! You needn't help us around", Daniel's mum says.

"It's okay. It's my thanks for letting me stay over with you", he says, heading out towards the garden. Daniel's dad had mentioned they needed to get rid of the weeds in the backyard, so now it very much looks like Max has every intention of mowing the lawn. 

"Let him do this one thing so he feels good about himself", Daniel whispers to his mum. "I'll grab him when he's done". 

So Daniel fires up the coffee machine and he and his mom sit down in the kitchen, watching through the window as Max drives the lawn mower back and forth. It's so terribly slow that it's hilarious. Daniel should take a video and post it on Instagram, he thinks, so he takes his phone out and opens the camera up.

He's taken a couple short clips when his mum starts speaking. "So", she says. "All good between you and Max?". 

Daniel puts his phone away and pretends like he wasn't daydreaming about them moving in together last night. "Yeah, all good. He's a fun dude". 

His mum just stares at him, a bit too knowingly for his liking. "I'm just asking because we were a bit worried when you left Red Bull, you know? You were friends for years and then it just sorta seemed like you… Stopped". She takes a sip of her coffee, then places her hand over Daniel's. "I just mean I'm happy you're back to being friends, Daniel. That something good came out of this whole debacle". 

Daniel looks over the window, towards where Max seems to be having trouble going up the hill. "Yeah, mum. Me too". 

—

That evening, Daniel drives Max to the airport, where a private Red Bull airplane will be picking him up to take him back to Monaco. It's still a terribly long flight, so Daniel packs a shoulder pillow in Max's backpack when he's not looking. 

Something feels weirdly fragile inside Daniel's chest as they walk to the security control. There's words bouncing around Daniel's brain, but he doesn't know which ones he wants to let out. Thank you for coming over, I had a great time. I don't really want you to leave. Why did you want to come here in the first place, Max?

In the end, Max beats him to it. "Thank you for letting me visit, even though I kind of invited myself over", he says, a bit bashful all of the sudden. "I had a really good time". 

"Yeah, me too, mate. Sorry we didn't do any more sightseeing". 

"It's okay, I really liked the farm. And your parents are really nice", he replies, a small smile playing on his lips. There's a mole on Max's top lip, and it's never bothered Daniel as much as it does now. 

"That they are, Maxy". Daniel opens his arms and pulls Max him for a hug, that way he can stop staring at the damn mole. "Safe travels. I'll see you around soon". 

Max squeezes him one last time before letting go. "Thanks". Daniel watches as he rearranges the cap on his head, crooked now after the hug. "Text me when you get back, okay?". 

"Will do, Maxy". And with that and a smile, Daniel watches as Max queues through the security check, sending Daniel one last wave of his hand before disappearing into the crowd.

—

The next couple races are back to backs, so time passes in a little bit of a blur between them. It doesn't matter though, because Daniel doesn't attend either of them. He does however pop to Italy for Imola, where Max repeats last year's performance and wins again. This year is proving to be more of a battle than last season, though, both with the Ferraris and the Mercedes: Hamilton gets P2, and Leclerc P3. 

Checo is P4, barely missing out on another podium. Daniel doesn't really have access to privileged information anymore - well, it's not like Christian ever told him what he was thinking anyway -, but the tension between Checo and the higher ups increases with every podium that Max gets and Checo doesn't. 

A reporter straight up asks him in Monaco, after Checo has to retire due to a mechanical failure. It's P3 for Max this time - not the best result, but still strong anyway. 

"Daniel, seeing as Checo's performance has been fairly uninspired so far this season, are there any talks in Milton Keynes of a driver swap for Red Bull? You for Checo?". Sam tenses where he's standing next to Daniel, so he looks for the most PR response he can come up with and tries to charm his way out of the question. 

"I'm not aware of any kind of talks, I can tell you that much. I think Checo is a brilliant driver and I can sympathize with a little bit of bad luck, you know?". He adds a wink for good measure and scurries away as soon as he can. 

Michael brings up the topic again as they're having a drink after the race in Spain. "The Red Bull bigwigs paid us a visit the other day, you know? Me included".

Daniel puts down his now-empty glass and signals for another one. "What did they want?".

"My opinion on the drivers", he says, lowering his voice. They're sitting together at a corner table so it's not like anyone can overhear them, but just in case. "Listen, I don't know what is going on exactly in Horner and Helmut's heads, but it seems to me like they're looking for a hypothetical second driver replacement". 

A spike of adrenaline runs through Daniel's arms. He won't have hope until the offer is on the table, but… "What did you tell them?".

"The truth, that it's too soon for either of them to be pitted against Verstappen", Michael replies, leaning forward on his seat. "Nyck has barely half a season of F1 experience, and Yuki is still too volatile. Verstappen would tear them to shreds like he did with Gasly and Albon". 

Daniel runs the possibilities through his head, mind going a mile a minute. "Christian would rather sell his daughter than put me back in the car". 

"Mate, he might not have a choice", Michael replies, looking Daniel in the eye. Daniel feels electric. "The Alpha Tauri boys aren't ready to replace anyone yet. If Pérez is not performing, then they need someone with experience who they know can stand up to Verstappen. They need you, mate". 

—

Max calls him after Silverstone. Daniel is surprised for a moment - Max had always preferred texting to calling, at least in Daniel's experience, so he's a bit apprehensive as he picks up the phone. 

"Maximilian! What's up?". 

"Are you at the hotel?", Max says, straight forward as always. He'd gotten caught up in the celebrations after another win - Daniel was kinda tired of drinking other people's champagne, so he'd left a bit earlier than usual. There's background noise on the other side of the line: people talking and the steady beat of music. 

"Yeah, I am, why? You okay?".

"What's your room number?", and after a second he adds: "Can I come over?". Daniel doesn't know what to do with the breathlessness in Max's voice, so he says yes .

Half an hour later there's a knock on Daniel's room, which he opens to reveal a flushed Max. "Hey", he says. "Can I come in?". 

Daniel lets him through, closing the door behind him. "Sorry for the state of the room", Daniel apologizes. "I was getting ready to turn in for the night". Max looks around as if just noticing the unmade bed and Daniel's loose attire - an old t-shirt and sweatpants. Nothing fancy. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you". 

"No problem, Maxy. You're always welcome in my chambers", Daniel says, trying to lighten the mood. Max has been drinking: even if he couldn't catch the scent of club and party in his clothes, the slight slurring and the high flush on Max's cheekbones would tell him all Daniel needs to know. He's not drunk drunk , but definitely a bit tipsy. "Do you want something to drink? Some water maybe?". 

Daniel's already moving towards the mini bar when Max shakes himself out of it. "No, no don't worry, there was… There's just something… I'm sorry that I just invited myself over like I always do but-". 

"Hey. Hey, Maxy", Daniel says, trying to calm him down. He pads over to where Max is standing in the middle of the room, looking at Daniel like a spooked animal. He places a hand on Max's arm, feeling the warmth seeping through the material of his shirt. "It's okay. You alright?".

Max nods. "Yeah, I am. There's just something I had to ask".

"Alright, fire away", he replies, and Max looks at him for a couple seconds. They're basically the same height like this - perhaps Max has a little bit on Daniel, considering that Daniel's barefoot on the carpet. 

"Do you really think we wouldn't be able to handle being teammates again?", is the question that comes out of Max's lips. Daniel stares, dumbfounded, that this is what Max had made his way to the hotel in the early morning to ask him. 

"I never said that, Max". 

"You said. You said we would've ended up like Hamilton and Rosberg". Daniel catches the way Max's throat is working for a second before bringing his gaze back to Max's face. 

"I meant neither of us knew how to deal with the pressure the team was putting on us at that moment", he tries to explain. "But that was back in 2018. Many things have changed since then". I have changed, he means. You have changed as well, even if people seem to think that you haven't.

Max's eyes search his, jumping from one eye to another. "So you think we could do it. If we were teammates again". 

"We already are, Maxy". 

"That's not what I mean, and you know it". Daniel stares, transfixed, at the way Max inches closer, mouth parted. He smells like lemon vodka and sweat, and Daniel has the strongest impulse to kiss him. Clear as day, he can almost imagine the way Max's breath would catch as Daniel slotted their mouths together, pressing them to one another and then down to the bed. Max would go the way he always does when Daniel directs him anywhere: easy and pliable. Content. 

Instead, Daniel swallows and looks at Max's dark eyes. "Honestly, it's a gamble", he says, caught up in the way his instincts are telling him to grab Max and lock the door. "But I believe we could make it work". 

Max smiles slowly, body sagging with something that could be relief if it didn't hurt Daniel so much to see it. "Good", he says, smiling away at Daniel. "Good". 

—

Christian calls him into his office after Spa, and breaks the news to him. The entire time, Daniel feels like he's going to vibrate out of his skin.

It's just like they'd done to Kyviat, to Gasly: they're dropping Pérez for the second half of the season, after what is arguably his worst year in F1 ever, and a bad performance in comparison to the steady results Max has been bringing in with the same car. Christian goes on about how sorry they are about Checo, how they will compensate him, how they regret not being able to give this opportunity to one of the Alpha Tauri guys, but that they simply aren't ready yet. 

Daniel knows, he knows all of this, he knows the decision had been taken before Silverstone, when they had told Max about the driver swap. It's the only reason why he would've showed up on Daniel's doorstep like that.

"We'll announce this to the press next week, so please don't leak it until then, alright?", Christian says, offering out his hand for Daniel to shake. "Oh, and Daniel", he adds before Daniel leaves. "Welcome home". 

—

Daniel doesn't get a summer break. Instead, he gets seat fittings, and car modifications, and tons of practice laps around the factory track, and a shit load of physical training. Michael swaps his Alpha Tauri polo for a dark blue one, and hugs Daniel so tight he's afraid his joints will pop. "I knew you could do it, mate. I knew it".

It's four weeks of permanent exhaustion, and Daniel couldn't be any fucking happier. Max calls and congratulates him right after Christian has made the news public, but it's not until right before Zandvoort that they see each other again. 

Max is the one to hug Daniel this time, squeezing tightly. Daniel lays his head sideways on Max's shoulder and holds on. "Welcome back, Daniel", he says right on Daniel's ear, making him suppress a shiver. 

"Will you change back to number 33 now? So we can match again". Max's laugh reverberates all the way down his chest. 

—

The Netherlands is a sea of orange, as usual, but this time Daniel doesn't feel like he's cheating by wearing his McLaren equipment. The crowd roars when Max and Daniel pass by in the driver's parade, and even more when Max lays an arm around Daniel's shoulders, waving with the other. "See?", he says into Daniel's ear, leaning closer so as to be heard over the noise. "They're cheering for you too". 

Daniel fits himself against Max and smiles at the fans, feeling some stray piece of himself lock into place.

—

There's some tension with a couple of the drivers, mostly the ones who were closer to Checo, but the overall vibes are good on the paddock. "Nice to see you again, mate", Lando says when they see each other on the tarmac. Piastri comes over to say hello too, even though it's a bit more stilted. Bit awkward and all. 

Max hangs off Daniel's shoulder the entire time, weirdly reminiscent of a guard dog. And then it's time for qualifying. 

Daniel's shaking with both excitement and nerves as he climbs into the car, searching for comfort in the feeling of the helmet around him, the way his hands wrap familiarly around the steering wheel. 

"Let's get them, Daniel", Hugh says into his ear. And he does. They do, actually, both of them: it's a Red Bull front-row lockout in Zandvoort for 2023, first Max and then Daniel. He's sure they play Daniel's screams live on TV, over and over, considering how loud he's whooping as the Q3 timer counts down to zero. 

He parks the car at the P2 spot and feels the roar of the crowd wash over him as he climbs out of his car, fist raised in the air. Max is suddenly there too, wrapping his arms around Daniel and knocking their helmets together uncomfortably. It's like he's won a race instead of qualified P2, but he doesn't care anyway. He basks in the satisfaction of a good comeback.

The press are waiting to pounce on him, asking questions along the lines of 'How does it feel to be back?' and 'Do you think you deserve to have been given Checo's seat?' . Sam hovers close the entire time, watching the journalists with a critical eye behind his glasses. 

Daniel tries to give polite and good-natured answers, but it's difficult sometimes. "Daniel, do you think you were given this position thanks to Max?", one lady asks. It catches him so off guard that his mind goes blank. 

"Come again?".

"I said, do you think you were given this seat thanks to Max? Considering how much power he has over the team and how well you two get along, whereas his relationship with Checo had been strained lately". Daniel must look like a total deer in the headlights, because Sam jumps to the rescue. 

"Thank you for your questions, that'll be all for now", he says, gently guiding Daniel back towards the garage. "Fucking pricks", he says under his breath once they're out of earshot. "Don't listen to them, Daniel. Anybody who's seen you drive knows that you're here on your own merit".

"Thanks, Sam", he replies, but the thought stays lodged in Daniel's brain for the rest of the day. 

He ends up texting Max that night. It's pre-race night, so everybody's heading to bed nice and early. Daniel can't sleep. He opens up his chat with Max and types out. 

You awake?

And Max surely is, because the reply comes in barely ten seconds later.

Yes, but you should be asleep

Can I ask you something? , Daniel types out before he's had time to chicken out. 

Sure , comes the reply.

Mind if I come to your room?

And so Daniel knocks on Max's hotel room just down the hall from his own, and watches as Max greets him and lets him in. He's wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants. Daniel fights down the urge to hug him. 

"Sorry for being weird", Daniel apologizes preemptively. 

"No problem. I've been weird too", Max says. "Too nervous to sleep?".

"Yeah, a bit", Daniel replies, feeling kinda sheepish. "I've got the jitters".

"The what?".

"You know, the jitters", Daniel tries explaining, but Max's expression remains confused. "You know, like when you used to get nervous before the first day of school? Like that". 

"Oh, I understand. Jitters", he repeats, trying the sounds out. 

"Anyway. The issue is I got asked this really bad question today after qualifying, and I haven't been able to put it out of my mind". Daniel realizes too late that he's started pacing around the room. He can't stop. "It's stupid because I know the answer to the question, but I still want to have confirmation, you know". 

"Ehm. I guess", Max says, clearly still confused. 

"Sorry, I'm not making sense". Daniel stops the pacing and faces Max. "Okay, this question is really bad, and I know the answer is no. But I'm still going to ask anyway. Don't get mad, okay? Will you get mad?". 

"I don't know". 

"Just say you won't get mad".

"Okay, I won't get mad". Max's right eyebrow is perfectly arched. 

"Okay, then here goes nothing", Daniel takes a breath, resting his chin on his outstretched index fingers. "Did you have anything to do with me replacing Checo?".

Max's face sours immediately, just like he'd been afraid of. "What?".

"You said you wouldn't get angry".

"You made me say that". And yep, Max is angry. "You know I wouldn't do that". 

"I know. I know, fuck , I know you respect me as a driver. But it's what everyone out there is thinking, you know? That you kicked Checo out because he was hindering you, and instead asked Christian to put me in. Someone who wouldn't fight you like Checo did". 

"Whoever thinks that is stupid and should not be watching F1. Also they clearly do not know you". Daniel cracks a smile. "Daniel, I did not ask Christian to put you in. Checo wasn't performing and you're a capable driver. The fact that you and I get along when things with him hadn't been… Perfect, since last season is just lucky". 

"Okay", Daniel says, processing the information, letting it sink in and coat over the cracks in his confidence. "Okay. Thanks, Maxy". The nickname must ease something in Max, because his features relax.

"Have more confidence in yourself, Daniel. You'll be able to survive me". 

—

Max wins in Zandvoort, which is equally predictable as it is exciting for the orange tide in the stands. What's crazy though, is that Daniel comes in right behind him. 

And so Daniel's first race back in the Red Bull ends in a double podium, which is more than he had expected he could achieve at the end of the 2022 season. He feels like his face is going to strain from smiling too hard as Max aims his champagne at him.

"Oh, you know I have to do it", Daniel remembers suddenly, and Max starts laughing as Daniel crouches to take off his boot. "One shoey coming right up!". 

"Not for me, thanks", says Sainz from the P3 step, already backing away from Daniel's boot. 

"Give it to me, come on", says Max, and both him and the crowd below watch as Daniel fills the shoe with P2 champagne and hands it over to Max, who takes it with both hands and pretends to toast before throwing it back, eyes scrunched up like they had been back in that framed picture at the farm. 

Daniel's eyes are glued to the way Max's throat works and swallows, golden champagne spilling out of the boot and down the column of Max's jaw. Eventually he pulls the boot away and says: "Fucking disgusting". But he's smiling, so it's all good. 

Daniel's grin stays on.

—

They go out and celebrate that night, of course, and eventually they end up at a club one of the mechanics recommended. Daniel can't speak a single word of Dutch, but Max orders for them so soon enough he gets something appropriately alcoholic in his hand. The music sucks, but after a couple glasses he stops caring about it. 

Max is soon veering towards shitfaced as well, judging by the way he keeps clinging to Daniel's arm. It's fine - a drunk Max is a clingy Max, and it gives Daniel an excuse to enjoy the feeling of his body pressed close to Max as he tries to explain something to Daniel. It's something or other about the race, Daniel is not quite sure, since he'd stopped paying attention a while ago. Some people think Max's knack for over explaining things is annoying, but Daniel doesn't mind it. He lets the words wash over him - there's a comforting rhythm in his accent.

But Daniel gets distracted when he notices a pretty blonde making eyes at him from the bar. She's got straight cut hair to her chin, and a black backless dress that doesn't leave much to the imagination. 

"Daniel? Daniel, are you listening? Oh", Max says once he finds what Daniel had been looking at. Or rather, whom. 

"Sorry, Maxy, didn't mean to get distracted". The thing is, Daniel doesn't quite know what to do. These past few months he's had… Feelings, about Max. Thoughts that he'd never had before, and that he shouldn't have now. But he knows that that isn't going anywhere anytime soon. Not in this sport, and not when Max has a girlfriend and a stepdaughter waiting for him back home. 

So really it boils down to the following. Does Daniel want to take this girl back to his hotel room? Not really, to be honest. But could it help him get over the unrequited feelings stabbing his heart like needles? Maybe. At the very least he might get a good fuck out of it. 

Max just stares at him, easy drunken smile now replaced with an almost somber expression. "Are you gonna go talk to her?".

"Maybe, yeah. If she's interested". 

"She is", Max says, looking over at the girl. She's definitely looking over to them now, coy smile in place. Daniel downs the rest of the drink, then places it on the nearest flat surface. 

"Do I look okay, Maxy?". Max runs his eyes over him, from the top of Daniel's unruly curls, to the two undone buttons of his shirt, all the way down to his tighter-than-strictly-necessary jeans. 

"You're okay", he replies, a bit monotone. 

"Oh come on, Max, a bit more enthusiasm would be appreciated". 

"You look fine", he fires back. Is it just Daniel or does Max sound angry now? "Just go to her". And with that said, Max turns around and leaves, disappearing into the throng of people. 

"Hey! Max!", Daniel shouts, before going after him. It's not easy, considering the amount of people packed in here tonight. The grinding sweaty bodies around him make him feel sticky and uncomfortable. 

He manages to spot GP speaking to some of Max's mechanics in a circle. "Hey, have you seen Max?". But GP shakes his head no, so Daniel has to keep looking. He circles around the edge of the club a couple times, but doesn't manage to find the correct broad set of shoulders he's looking for. He tries the toilets too, and finds a whole lot of nothing. 

Eventually he makes his way outside. The late August heat still permeates the night air when Daniel steps out. He spots Max's blonde mop of hair a few meters away, sitting on the curve. Daniel's surprised to see a line of smoke coming out of his mouth. 

He walks over and sits down next to him with a grunt. Damn, F1 cars are uncomfortable, but nothing beats a good paved curb. 

Max looks at him in surprise. "What are you doing here?". 

"Looking for you, dumbass. You just up and disappeared, you know? Also, I haven't seen you smoke in years. You know this is bad for you, right?". And just as he says it, Daniel pinches Max's cigarette with two fingers straight from his mouth and brings it to his own, inhaling and exhaling the smoke. Disgusting. 

When he looks back, Max is staring at where his stolen cigarette is hanging off Daniel's lips, and it makes something electric race down Daniel's body. "Sorry. Wasn't feeling very good". 

"Then you should've said, Maxy. You wanna go back to the hotel?". 

"No, I'm fine, don't worry. Just needed a bit of fresh air, you know". Daniel takes another drag of the cigarette, then blows the smoke into the night air and watches it float away. "You should go back in and celebrate". 

" You should celebrate, Mr. P1". 

Max shrugs. "I've already celebrated enough to last me a lifetime". Daniel laughs. 

"Alright, mate. But promise me you'll celebrate when I beat you in Monza". 

The sound of Max's giggle rings like a bell in Daniel's ear. " If you can beat me".

"Uh-uh, it's the Monza curse. You won last year, so you're not finishing that race, man". 

Max looks at him and smiles. That's better.  

"We'll see about that".

—

The Monza curse does strike again, so for the first time in the season, Max does not finish the race. "Mechanical failure", Hugh says into the radio. Ghost , is what Daniel's head understands. 

So it's up to him to bring in the points for Red Bull. He'd started P4, but manages to scrape P2 after fighting Leclerc for the last fifteen laps unsuccessfully. Lando's P3, and Daniel takes a special kind of joy in standing above him on the podium. 

It's half a success for the team, but Daniel will take whatever he can take. 

"Did you figure out who pressed the off-button for your car yet?", he asks Max as he walks into Daniel's driver room. He's still half-naked to be honest, but it's nothing Max hasn't ever seen before in changing rooms. He could swear for a moment that he catches Max's eyes on his chest, but no, surely that can't be right. 

"The engine decided to die for some fucking reason. And here I thought we were above these kinds of reliability issues".

"I told you mate, it happened to me last year too". Daniel's voice sounds muffled as he pushes his head through his Red Bull polo. "Monza curse". 

—

Then there's Singapore, and Japan, and then Qatar, and the Red Bulls struggle more than last year, but they still have a shot at securing both championships again. 

Daniel never stood a chance at world champion to begin with, starting halfway through the season, so he focuses on playing a defensive role for Max. Checo had been the Mexican Minister of Defense, sure, but Daniel will be damned if he lets anyone through to Max under his watch. 

It works. Max's fight with Leclerc is tighter this year, but by the time Austin rolls around he's still leading the championship comfortably by forty-ish points. The constructors championship is looking a bit more dire, considering how weak the first half of the season had been for Checo, but Daniel has managed to make it to the podium in pretty much every race so far. He has yet to win a race, and obviously the team will prioritize Max whenever possible, but Daniel knows he can do it. 

Plus, he fucking loves Austin. He'd thought last year had been his last, so he tries to enjoy the new opportunity as much as he can. He brings out the cowboy hat, of course, shaves his facial hair into a ridiculous mustache and greets everyone with a stupid 'Howdy, partner' that makes Michael cringe and Max giggle.

Christian only shoots him a resigned look when he sees him arrive at the hospitality like that. "Stay focused, boys", is what he says in their pre-qualifying defrief. 

Daniel is half-surprised when, later on, he spots Kelly in the garage. He has no idea why the hell he would be: she's Max's partner, it makes complete sense that she'd come to support him on race weekends.

Except, thinking back, Daniel can't remember seeing her around much lately. 

He greets her with his gaudy little cowboy number, and she seems a little put off at first, but then laughs at his antics. Daniel's southern charm will make all the ladies swoon, of course.

"Are you looking for Max? I haven't seen him in a little while, but I'm sure we can find him". 

"Don't worry, he said he was just coming. Oh, actually, there he is", she says looking over Daniel's shoulder, and sure enough Max is walking towards them. 

"Hey, guys", he says as he gets closer. Daniel could swear that there's a little tension in his shoulders. "What are you doing?".

"Oh nothing exceptional, partner. Just here charming the lady with my extraordinary good looks". Daniel tips his hat for extra flair. Michael would yell at him to please stop. 

"Then go find another lady, mate", Max says, but he's smiling now. Kelly says nothing, looking between the two of them. 

"Well, a cowboy knows when he is not wanted". Daniel tips his hat again, bowing towards Kelly. "I wish you a good stay in town, m'lady". 

"Thank you, Daniel", she says, not unkindly, and then Daniel leaves them be. 

He expects Max to pass on the Sunday team beers - not a full on party, after all, considering that they race again next week and that Daniel had to make do with P4 this time around. But the team gets together at the hotel bar for a couple beers afterwards, so Daniel had expected Max to go off with Kelly and do their own thing, except when he pops down to the bar he finds him already one drink down. 

Daniel wraps an arm around his shoulders. "What are you doing here, mate?". Max's hair is at that sweet spot where it's getting long again, flopping a bit over his forehead. Daniel wishes he'd let it stay like that for a little longer.

"What does it look like I'm doing? Celebrating with my team, of course", he replies, raising his beer towards the mechanics. They whoop in response, dissolving in a round of applause.

"Is Kelly here?". Daniel looks around, but can't seem to find her. By his side, he feels Max tense up. 

"Kelly had to go back home early". 

"Oh, sorry, mate. Everything okay, I hope?". 

Max doesn't look him in the eye when he replies: "Yeah, all good. Get me another one?". 

Daniel rubs Max's shoulder. "You got it, mate". 

Max ends up drinking more than he should, considering they're both flying to Mexico first thing in the morning. Still, Daniel allows Max to cling to him as he walks him back to his room. The whole time, Max is talking to himself, sometimes in English, sometimes in what Daniel assumes is Dutch, but could maybe be German or something. Not that Daniel would hear the difference. 

"Come on, Maxy, we're almost there", Daniel says. Whether the encouragement is for Max or for Daniel himself, he doesn't know. "Where's your key card?", he asks once they make it to the right door. 

Max hums and buries himself further on the crook of Daniel's neck. He can feel Max's breath warm on his skin, and it makes goosebumps break all over Daniel's arms. "Max", he insists. "Your key card". 

"In my pocket", he says, eventually, and Daniel is left to figure out which one. Too tired to keep arguing, he supports Max with one arm and frees the other hand, patting Max's pants. "Woah, at least buy me a beer first. Oh wait, you already did. Go right ahead then", Max says, and then giggles into Daniel's neck.

"You're gonna owe me big for this, mate", Daniel grumbles as he finds the card, stored with Max's phone in the right back pocket of his jeans. 

He manages to open the door and turn the light on, dragging Max inside and closing the door behind them. Daniel deposits Max on the bed, trying not to jostle him too much, just in case. Max sits obediently and waits while Daniel walks to the toilet and produces a glass of water. "Drink", he says, and hands the glass to Max. 

Max eyes the water for a second, but then does as told and gulps it down. "Good boy", Daniel says unthinkingly, and then watches, transfixed, as Max shivers. "Are you cold?", he asks, but Max shakes his head no. 

"I'm good". Daniel takes the glass out of his hands, fingers brushing as he does so, refills it and then leaves it on the bedside table. 

"Come on, cowboy. Let's get those boots off". Max reaches towards his sneakers, but straightens up slowly with a muttered 'Oh, god' that sounds too dangerous to Daniel. So he sighs, resigned, and gets on his knees between Max's legs, untying the sneakers one by one and gently pulling them off Max's feet. 

He's startled in the middle of removing the second shoe when Daniel feels a hand move through his curls. Then, he makes the mistake of looking up, only to see Max staring right through him. His fingers are gentle as they card through Daniel's hair. 

"Your hair's soft", he says, half-incomprehensible given how thick his accent is at the moment. 

"It's thinning out, that's what it is", Daniel replies, finally pulling off the shoe. 

"I like it anyway", Max says, and Daniel has to get out of here before he does something stupid like throw away their newfound friendship or their relationship as teammates out the window. 

He gets up, and Max's hand falls away. "Go to bed, Max. I'll see you in the morning, okay?".

Max nods, carefully. "Okay", he says, slowly but surely crawling into bed. "Goodnight, Daniel". 

Daniel makes sure he's tucked in before turning the light off. "Goodnight, Maxy".

The thing is, Daniel thinks as he turns in bed afterwards, that Max has only ever dated older women. Even now, Kelly is not only older than Max: she's older than Daniel himself. 

This is a piece of information that Daniel's brain takes, processes, and then labels as 'important', before he can figure out why or really, why?

He turns the idea around in his head, pokes and prods at it until he's half-sure it's going to grow legs and start running around in his brain. Is it some kind of daddy/mommy issue, perhaps? That Max would gravitate towards older, more experienced partners? God knows Jos Verstappen was never much of a paternal figure. Poor baby Max must've run strictly on car fuel and trauma. 

So for some reason he can't bring himself to examine too closely, he pulls up an incognito tab on his phone and googles 'Kelly Piquet age'. December 7th, 1988, Google tells him, is her birthdate. So a seven month difference between her and Daniel. 

7 months. 

Seems like an awful small difference. 

—

Kelly is not there in Mexico, where both Daniel and Max get booed the entire weekend (and damn Daniel doesn't think he's ever been so actively disliked before).

By Brazil, there's rumors going around the paddock that they've broken up. But Max doesn't deny or confirm anything, and Daniel doesn't wanna pry, so the rumors stay rumors. 

Then comes the race Daniel has been waiting for for years. 

"It's Las Vegas, baby!", he sings as they pull up to their hotel. The city looks depressingly American during the day, but the night greets them full of flashing lights, neon colors and the promise of decadence. For a price, of course. 

Daniel's not sure why, but he feels revved up the entire weekend. It's like the first time he climbed during the RB19 back when he'd started testing as a development driver: he gets in the car and suddenly he feels in total sync with it. 

Qualifying flies by in a cloud of quiet adrenaline pumping through his veins. "That's P1, Daniel, P1". 

"What? No way", he fires back. 

"You were the fastest, mate. Congratulations". 

"What about Max?".

"He had to abort the last attempt". Hugh doesn't specify why over the radio, but they'll debrief later. Daniel would bet money on lack of fuel though - it's not the first time this has happened to Max's mechanics. Max will be pissed. "He'll be starting P4". 

So, on Sunday night, Daniel drives his car up to the first slot on the grid, and stares into the red lights blinking awake in front of him. It's funny how his mind goes completely quiet during the countdown - he can only look, wait, and feel the moment he slams the accelerator and the car roars into life. 

He feels in complete control of the car. Not only that, but he's aware of the cars around him, the state of the track, Hugh's words over the radio. Daniel achieves perfect focus somehow. He's in the zone, and it's been so long since he's actually driven like this that he barely remembers the feeling. 

"Where's Max?". 

"Currently P2", the answer comes in. "Fifteen seconds behind you. You're faster than him". 

You're faster than him. When was the last time Daniel had heard those words? 2017? He doesn't fucking remember.

What Daniel will always remember, however, is the feeling of crossing the line first. 

He screams until his throat feels scratchy, raises his fist to the stands and watches the fireworks break out in the sky for him.

Daniel is shaking as he pulls himself out of the car, dismounting slowly and taking in the roaring crowd of Red Bull staff filling out the barriers. He feels a bit like he's floating. He feels like he's about to cry.

And then there's a body crashing into him so hard that he almost topples over, and Daniel finds himself with an armful of Max Verstappen. "You did it! You asshole, you did it!". Max pulls his own visor up, so Daniel can see the blue in his eyes and the happy wrinkles around them. Daniel throws his arms around him and lifts Max up, pulling him a couple feet into the air and hearing a surprised laugh bubble out of him. 

He does tear up a bit when the Australian anthem plays, and then he thinks about how his mom is probably crying too, all the way back home. He's got to call his parents as soon as he's back on the ground. 

And so Daniel lifts up his trophy, and then his champagne bottle, and drinks the hell out of it. He's interrupted when a golden boot is suddenly shoved in front of his face. "Your turn to drink now", Max says, and Daniel laughs so hard he thinks he might double over.

He takes the boot and empties it into his mouth. Whether or not it tastes weird, Daniel's brain is too wired up to notice or even care about. 

"Fuck me, this shoe is ugly", he exclaims as he puts the boot down. Then he gives Max his widest smile yet. In front of them, the cameras flash like pinpricks of light blurring Daniel's vision.

—

There's no casual beers at the hotel bar this time. They party, and they party hard . It's Las Vegas after all. 

Daniel's not sure where exactly they end up, only that the music is loud as fuck and that there's gambling and plenty of alcohol. "Drinks on me!", he says in the general direction of the Red Bull staff that have joined the party, and Daniel is met with a choir of cheers and clapping. He doesn't know how many of tonight's expenses will be from actual Red Bull employees and how many by randos trying to take advantage of him, but Daniel doesn't care. The severance he got from McLaren will cover it. Fuck you, Zak Brown.

Daniel is well on his way to definitely more than a little tipsy when he goes to the toilets and sees at least three different people doing lines. He eyes the white powder longingly.

One of the dudes catches him looking. "Wanna buy?", he offers. Daniel shouldn't do it, he knows. The likelihood that he'll get tested right after the race is very low, but there's always the chance. 

But shouldn't he be able to celebrate his ninth win, which he thought he was never going to get? And in Vegas, for fuck's sake. 

So he buys enough for a couple lines, and stashes the little white baggy in his front pocket, where he can feel it and check it's still there. He's buzzing when he gets back out there, looking for his target. 

He finds him easy. "Daniel! There you are", Max says when he spots him. He clearly has a couple drinks in him too.

"Max missed you", says the mechanic standing next to Max. Daniel can't for the life of him remember his name. Arthur? Alex? It starts with an A for sure. 

"Aaaw, did you miss me, Maxy?", Daniel says as he lays an arm around him. The gesture has become almost natural as of late. 

"Shut up", he grumbles.

"Ooh, that's a yes!", Daniel laughs, then looks at Arthur-Alex. "Mind if I steal him for a sec?". 

"Go right ahead. The winner takes it all, and all that". So Daniel pulls Max away and directs them to one of the individual toilets. It's got its own sink and everything, exactly what Daniel needs. He locks the door once they're through.

"What are we doing in the toilets?", asks Max. 

" I am doing a line. You are being offered another", Daniel says, extracting the bag and dumping some of the contents on the surface of the sink. He then fishes a credit card out of his wallet and chops it, getting rid of any lumps he can see. "You don't have to do it or anything, but I got enough for two people. So I thought I'd share if you wanted to". 

Max stares at the way Daniel's fingers move on the white powder, now separating it into two neat piles. "It's been a while since we last did one of these". 

"I know. For old time's sake, if you will". Daniel puts away his credit card and takes out a newish twenty dollar bill, rolling in the shape of a straw. Then he puts the end of it to the first line, and snorts it. "Phew, fuck. It's been a while", he says, rubbing his nose. He checks himself in the mirror: all good. His pupils aren't wide as saucers yet, but they'll get there soon. 

Daniel offers the straw to Max. "You want it? Zero pressure if you don't". 

Max eyes the rolled up twenty and after a second, takes it. "Sure, fuck it". 

"That's the spirit, mate", Daniel laughs, rubbing Max's back lightly as he takes his own line. 

"Fucking hell". Max rubs at his own face with both hands, then opens the tap and splashes water on himself. "Oh, this is gonna get crazy". 

Daniel discards the rolled up bill and the empty bag, then washes his hands free of the powder. "Come on, Maxy. Stick close to me, alright?".

"Yeah". And out they go again. 

It kicks in faster than Daniel remembers. In a matter of a few minutes, Daniel starts feeling hot, pulse ricocheting against his whole body. Then the dopamine rush hits him like a brick, and the drugs, combined with the lingering thrill of victory, make him feel like he's on top of the fucking world. 

He looks back at Max, who's been following behind him. Daniel can't see his eyes very well in the dim light, but he's sure they look like pools of black. Daniel needs to touch him right now or he'll die. 

So he grabs Max's arm, feeling the firm bicep right below where his t-shirt ends, and pulls him to the bar. "What do you want, Maxy?".

"Shots", he says, not hesitating for a second. Daniel's gaze gets caught on his lips for a second, and he has to remind himself that he needs to act like he's not currently high off his ass. Which he is, mind you. 

But then, the most terrible and brilliant idea occurs to him. "Five shots of vodka and Red Bull, please!". 

"Red Bull, really?".

"I know you love it". 

Daniel retrieves the shots, handing two off to Max, and then walks to the nearest table - he recognizes several faces there. "Evening, ladies and gentlemen", he says, placing the shots down on the corner of the table. "Oh shit, Sam, you're here! Wanna do a body shot off of me?". Sam splutters, half-choking on his drink. 

"Body shots?", he thinks he hears Max say behind him, but it's mostly drowned out by the laughter around the table. 

"I'll do one", says the girl sitting next to Sam. It's Helen - also in the PR department, and quite nice to be around. She's cute too, all long brown hair and dark eyes. 

"That's the attitude I wanna see!", and then Daniel grabs his own t-shirt by the back of the neck and pulls it off, throwing it in Sam's general direction. He looks shell-shocked. "Help me out, guys", he asks, and a couple of the mechanics move half-empty glasses off the table, making room for Daniel to lay down horizontally. 

Maybe it's the cocaine high boosting Daniel's confidence, but by god he swears he looks good: splayed out on the table, skin tan and abs showing on the flat plain of his stomach. He feels another whole rush of dopamine when he catches the way Max's eyes are roaming down his skin, glued to it like he can't take them off. 

"Are you serious, Daniel? Can I take the shot?". Oh yeah, Helen's here too. True. 

"Sure baby, go for it", he says, and shivers a bit when the cold vodka makes contact with the skin of his bellybutton. Half of it drips down Daniel's sides, but Helen puts her mouth to it anyway and slurps down what she can. There's a round of whoops and cheers when she straightens up, lifting her fist up in the air like she's won something. 

"Come on, Sam, you're next", she says, pouring another shot on Daniel's stomach. The poor man looks half-terrified but does it anyway, earning himself a few claps on the back for his bravery.

Daniel joins the cheering this time. "Go, Sam! That's my boy".

They gather a bit of an audience by the time the next girl does it, and this one actually licks down Daniel's bellybutton for real. He doesn't really know who she is, but he's too high to care that much about it. One of Max's engineers does the fourth shot, less lewdly than the previous girl. 

"Who's next?", somebody asks. 

"Max is", Daniel says, and looks towards where Max has been staring the entire time, still as a statue. "Come here, Maxy". The affectionate nickname falls out of Daniel's mouth without permission, and he thinks for a moment about being embarrassed, but nobody around looks weirded out or anything. 

Right, they're all drunk off their asses. 

Max goes, approaching slowly. Someone hands him the last shot, and Max holds eye contact with Daniel right before pouring it over Daniel's bellybutton. And then he's lowering his head to Daniel's stomach and taking the shot off his skin, licking down and around his navel. The hot sensation of Max's mouth and tongue, the slight scrape of his stubble - it sends a shock through Daniel's body, especially when Max looks up and catches his eye. Daniel gets the sudden urge to grab him by the hair and keep him there, then move him lower down his body slowly.

For a long second there he worries he's about to get hard in front of a group of coworkers while his teammate licks vodka off his belly. 

Their audience claps wildly as Max emerges victorious. Daniel takes a second to catch his breath and gets up after a moment, watching how serious Max's eyes are despite the joyful ruckus around them. 

"Here's your shirt, Daniel", says Sam, handing him his discarded clothing. Daniel could swear he looks a bit flushed. 

"Thanks, mate", he replies, shrugging the shirt on despite how hot his body feels. "I'll go get another drink". 

Before he can get very far though, Max's hand on his upper arm stops him. This close Daniel can tell that yeah, his pupils are completely blown out, no trace of light blue visible anywhere like this. "We should go back to the hotel", he says like a death sentence, and Daniel's heart starts beating even faster than before. 

He just looks at Max for a couple seconds, trying to read his cues correctly. "Yeah? Are you sure?", Daniel says. He hates how out of breath he sounds. 

"Yeah, I'm sure", and there's that. 

Daniel orders an Uber and leads the way out, trying to be as discreet as possible in their exit. Hopefully everyone will be too pissed to notice they're gone. Or worse, that they left together. 

The ride to the hotel is painfully tense. Daniel is a ball of barely-restrained energy, all jittery. He can't help the way his right leg bounces up and down uncontrollably, or how he ends up chewing on his fingernails just to keep himself from talking the driver's ear off. He can't think at all.

He can only watch and walk as Max leads him up to his hotel room and then unlocks the door. By that point, Daniel's starting to chicken out, tendrils of fear gripping his chest. "Hey, Max. Maybe this isn't the best moment to-". 

"Get in", Max says, looking mildly annoyed. He sounds dead serious. 'What Max wants, Max gets' , he'd said once to Michael. So Daniel gets in. 

He doesn't really get an opportunity to argue. 

Max pushes him against the door and catches him by the mouth, kissing him as soon as he's close enough to. It's not gentle, and it's not pretty: the way Max presses against Daniel is almost violent, and definitely a tad desperate. Daniel makes a weak noise against him, helpless to do anything that isn't kissing him back. 

Max is a good kisser, even when drunk and high on Daniel's drugs. He's very Max in everything he does, this included: a bit rough, but terribly focused and dedicated. Daniel melts completely under him, skin burning wherever Max touches - his cheek, his neck, his arm. It all sends tiny sparks of pleasure through Daniel's body, making him shiver under his touch. 

And Max is not faring much better. Daniel's pants get tighter every time he sucks on Max's tongue just right or he tugs a little on his hair and Max makes these little feeble noises that have Daniel gripping him with what is probably too much force. Max doesn't protest. Distantly, Daniel wonders if he's leaving any marks behind.

"Max", he manages to groan out, right as Max starts sucking what will surely be a bruise high on Daniel's neck. The feeling of his teeth over the delicate skin goes straight between Daniel's legs. "Max. Maxy ". 

"What?", he grumbles, pulling off Daniel's throat. "If you try to stop me I swear to god, Daniel, I-". 

Daniel stalls him with another kiss, the sweetest one yet. He can physically feel Max mellowing out little by little against him, and Daniel moves his thumb over Max's jaw in a soothing motion. "Max. What do you want?", Daniel manages to ask once they've parted and he can look Max in the eye properly. There's still barely any blue in sight. 

Daniel tracks the up and down movement of Max's throat as he swallows. "Can I suck you off?", he says, just like that, and Daniel just straight out moans this time. Always so fucking direct.

"You can't just say these things". 

"Why not?", Max asks, already lowering himself down to his knees before Daniel. Like this, he can see the full effect of Max's physique, and how much he's filled out since Daniel's Red Bull days. He's broader than Daniel himself, probably stronger too. "I want to go down on you. Are you okay with that?". 

Daniel lifts his open palms in front of himself, gesturing. "Go right ahead, mate". Then he looks, holding his breath, as Max actually moves towards Daniel's jeans, unbuckling the belt and then pulling the zipper down. He doesn't bother taking Daniel's pants off, just pushes them down until Daniel is in his boxer briefs and the evidence of his arousal is clearly evident in front of Max's face.

Max looks for a moment, then puts his mouth on it, sealing itself over Daniel's clothed cock. "Shit, Maxy". He mouths down the full length of it, wetting the cloth with his saliva and driving Daniel crazy. It already feels so intense even though they've barely started. 

Max pulls away and looks up at Daniel, mouth already pink and swollen. Daniel fixates immediately on the dark mole that sits on his top lip. He was kissing it just a few minutes ago. 

"You can grab me, you know? Touch me". Someone else would say that Max sounds nonchalant, the way he would if he was talking about the weather or something, but Daniel can hear the telltale way his voice cracks, the raspiness of it. He's affected as well, and a quick look between his legs confirms Daniel's suspicions: he's clearly hard in his jeans. 

Just like Daniel is when Max pulls his underwear down, revealing the full extent of the effect Max is having on him. Max inspects him for a second, eyes dark and huge and mouth parted, then starts kissing up Daniel's shaft. When he gets to the tip, he finally takes the head into his mouth. 

Daniel's right hand buries itself in Max's hair, and if the hum Max lets out is any indication, he approves of the way Daniel's fingers tighten unconsciously. Daniel's secretly glad Max has let his hair grow long enough to do it.

He lets out a half-choked moan when Max moves his tongue over the slit of Daniel's head, then starts going down on him for real, taking him into his mouth inch by inch until Daniel's afraid he'll gag. But he doesn't: he goes as far as he can, but Daniel can tell when he starts feeling uncomfortable and decides to wrap the rest of Daniel with his hand, pumping him in time with his mouth. Sometimes he has to remind himself that this Max is older, and that he's started realizing where his limits are, even if most of the time he chooses to ignore them.

It's good, and not just because it's fucking Max Verstappen down on his knees for him. 

"You've done this before", Daniel says, and a part of him is irrationally angry at the thought. Max fucking girls he can rationalize, but Max fucking other men - for some reason that rubs him the wrong way. 

Max looks at him from where he's on the floor. His mouth is stretched obscenely wide around Daniel's cock - the image will be forever engraved in the back of Daniel's eyelids, he thinks. Max looks like he's considering pulling off to answer, but then decides against it, humming around Daniel instead and making Daniel grip Max's hair tighter in response. 

"Fuck. Fuck , Maxy. You're so good". Encouraged by Daniel's reaction, he moves faster, taking Daniel's balls in his hand as well and making him shiver. 

And then Daniel remembers the reaction Max had had back in Austin, when he'd had to walk Max to his hotel room. The way he'd shivered when Daniel had praised him half-jokingly. 

So he makes the unconscious decision. He moves his hand from Max's hair down to his jaw, feeling the way his muscles work at Daniel. Max lifts his gaze at the feeling, and right when their eyes meet he says: "There's a good boy". 

The reaction is instant. Max gives a half-broken moan, pulling off Daniel, and his whole body seems to give one uncontrollable shake. Daniel thinks for a moment, amazed, that Max might've actually come just from that, but one quick check reveals that his jeans are still tented. 

He moves back towards Daniel with the intention of pulling back to his mouth, but Daniel stops him with a hand on his shoulder. "No, if you start back up I'll come in your mouth. I won't last long".

"That's okay", Max says, voice throaty and scratchy. Daniel's brain eats it up. "You can come in my mouth if you want to". 

Daniel is going to last even less than originally estimated. "Max, I literally will not last ten seconds". 

"I want you to", he says, still looking at Daniel, and then he swallows him back down. Daniel's helpless to it all: he grips Max's hair again, harder this time, and tries to at least give a warning right before the pleasure building steadily in his belly fucking explodes and he's shooting down Max's throat. Max coughs a bit, but Daniel watches as he swallows most of it down. The trickle that escapes his mouth and runs down his jaw, he wipes with his clean hand, like it's no big deal. 

Daniel can't take it anymore. He tucks himself clumsily back into his briefs and says "Come here, baby", pulling Max up and then crushing their mouths together. Daniel can taste himself on Max's tongue, and it's so fucking hot he'd get hard again if he could. 

Max makes a keening sound against Daniel's mouth when he palms him, grinding down instinctively into his hand. "Let me take care of you", he says into Max's ear, and he can feel the way he shivers when Daniel opens his jeans and pulls him out of his underwear. 

Max feels right in his fist when he starts pumping him, spreading the precome gathered at the tip and jerking him off. He doesn't waste any time, hand moving fast over Max - he's been too hard for too long for Daniel to tease him now. 

And anyway, judging by the noises falling out of Max's mouth, he seems okay with the proceedings. As Daniel works him over, Max mouths at Daniel's neck again, making a half-frustrated noise. "Daniel", he groans out after a particularly hard twist of Daniel's hand. 

"Yes, Maxy?", he whispers against him. 

"Can I-? Fuck, can I -. Your fingers", he trails off, nonsensically. 

"My fingers? You want my fingers, Max?". He nods against Daniel. "Where?". 

Max lifts his head but avoids eye contact with Daniel. "My mouth", he says, after a beat of silence. 

"Shit, Maxy", Daniel groans. "Anything you want", he says, then offers the index and middle finger of his left hand to Max, who takes them greedily into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digits. His features go lax. "Look at you, shit. You're fucking pretty". Max shivers against him at the words. 

It doesn't take long at all afterwards: Max comes with a muffled groan around Daniel's fingers, spilling over his fist. It's messy, and dirty - Daniel wants to repeat it as soon as it's over. 

Eventually though, Max starts coming down from the sex high, and Daniel takes his fingers gently out of his mouth. He's not the only one coming back down to earth: Daniel is definitely crashing as well, the effect of the line he did in the bathroom wearing off by the second and being replaced with the worst kind of exhaustion. Three days and it'll be gone from his blood completely.

"Come on, Maxy, let's get to bed". Max nods, and together they move towards the actual hotel room - they never made it past the door. Daniel swings by the bathroom and rinses off his hands, drying them perfunctorily on the nearest towel. He's pretty disgusting, in all honesty, but right now he only cares about sleeping. 

Max has discarded his shoes, socks and shirt and is climbing under the covers when Daniel comes out of the toilet. He hesitates for a moment: is he even wanted here? Should he go back to his own hotel room?

But then Max calls him. "Daniel. Get in bed already". So Daniel takes off his socks and shoes as well and slips under the bed sheets next to Max, turning off the light as he does so. He can hardly make out the silhouette of Max in the sudden dark, even though he knows he's close enough to touch. "Goodnight, Maxy", he whispers into the darkness. 

"Night, Daniel", and that's the last thing he remembers before passing out. 

—

Morning greets Daniel with a pounding headache and feeling like he's just run 10 miles. He feels crusty and disgusting and exhausted, and why the fuck did he do both drugs and alcohol last night? Fucking idiot. 

He groans as he turns his head and opens his eyes slowly, blinking against the morning clarity, and then Daniel's greeted with the sight of Max still peacefully asleep next to him. His chest rises and falls in even steady patterns, and the light coming in from the window makes his skin look almost deadly pale. Right, they'd forgotten to pull down the blinds last night. They were too busy getting each other off. 

He starts getting nervous the moment he recalls last night's events, and that is precisely when Max stirs, making a small noise and opening his eyes. They're all blue now, matching the slow smile that spreads across his lips the moment he sees Daniel. "Morning", he murmurs, and then he must catch up to the situation, because a frown appears between his brows. Daniel is freaking out. 

"You're freaking out", he says, reading him like an open book. "Stop freaking out". 

"I can't", Daniel replies, and sits up against the headboard. The movement makes his stomach cramp uncomfortably, and he has to take deep breaths in order to calm it down, rubbing down his face with his hands. "Max, I'm sorry". 

Max's expression scrunches up unhappily. He's three seconds away from annoyance, and then ten from anger. "You don't need to be sorry about anything". 

"I gave you alcohol, then I gave you drugs. And then I forced you to act unprofessionally in front of your team", he lists off. "You weren't in the right state of mind to give consent, and I went along with it anyway". 

"Daniel-". 

"Oh my god, and Kelly. Fucking hell, Max, Kelly ". Daniel's hands move to his own hair, tugging painfully at the curls. 

"Daniel, listen to me", Max says, getting up as well and grabbing Daniel's jaw and forcing his face towards him . "You didn't force me to do anything. You didn't force me to drink, and you didn't force me to do the line. I did it because I wanted to". 

"You weren't in the right mind to make the decision. I basically -". 

"Daniel, I have wanted to sleep with you since I was seventeen!". That does the job: Daniel shuts up. Max continues. "All the things we did last night, I wanted".

"I… You… Seventeen?". And they say Daniel's a good communicator. There's a distinct flush over Max's cheekbones, stark over his pale skin. 

He nods, looking away. "Yeah. Pretty much since I joined the team". 

"I- I didn't know". And it's true: back in their Red Bull days as teammates, whenever Max's eyes would stray to Daniel, whenever his smile lasted a bit longer than strictly appropriate, Daniel chucked it up to some kind of hero worship. To that whole newbie/mentor side of their relationship. Not to… Well, actual sexual attraction. 

"I knew you didn't. That's why I never said anything", says Max, rearranging himself against the headboard as well. Their shoulders touch, and Daniel can trace his eyes down the smooth slide of Max's chest and belly. Daniel himself is all straight angles and hardness to Max's softness. He's never struggled to put on weight like Daniel. 

"So why now?", he has to ask. Max shrugs a bit, looking for a response. 

"Lately it's seemed like when I looked at you, you were looking back", he says, simply. And yeah, maybe in Max's mind this really is that simple. Daniel's still wrapping his head around everything.

"And what about Kelly?".

"Kelly's known about you since pretty much the beginning". Max takes in Daniel's expression of incredulity and continues. "Yeah, she has. I told her about me not being strictly into girls early on. About having a crush on you". 

"And she was fine with that?".

"I thought you were a lost cause, and I told her as much. She was okay with that as long as we stayed just friends, since we didn't get to spend much time with each other anyway". 

Daniel nods, understanding. Kelly's progressive disappearance from the paddock this year, Max's tense shoulders every time he saw them together suddenly make more sense. "But then I went back to Red Bull". 

"But then you went back to Red Bull", he confirms. "And became my teammate again. She didn't like that very much". 

Daniel fiddles with the bedsheet, wringing the edges with his fingers. "So are you, like, still together?", he asks. 

"We're supposed to be taking some time off", Max replies. "Not sure that's changing anytime soon, considering the circumstances". 

Daniel sits there and thinks about the implications of Max's words. "So you want to like… Keep this going? Us, I mean?". Max turns his head and looks at him, expression serious like Daniel can hardly ever get his own. 

"Would you like us to?", he says, instead of answering the question. 

"You know it's rude to answer a question with another question, right?".

"You're deflecting", he says, the corner of his mouth lifting a bit. "But yeah. I would like this to continue happening. In the future". 

"Okay", Daniel says, processing the fact that Max Verstappen is interested in him not just for a one night stand, but like, continuously. That he has for years. Shit, how long has Daniel himself felt the same without realizing? "Yeah, I'd like that as well". 

Max smiles for real this time. 

—

"We're gonna need some boundaries, you know. If we are… Together, but also teammates", Daniel says, after getting his shoes on. Max is halfway into the bathroom, long overdue for a shower. "You know how it can get, with Red Bull".

"Yeah, okay", he says. "Are you signing for next year?". 

"There's been talks with Christian, but nothing definitive yet". Max nods like that makes sense to him - he would probably be told before Daniel himself. 

"Well, we can talk about it when they give you the papers". 

" If they give me the papers". 

"They will", Max replies.

—

Abu Dhabi greets them with another night race and the promise of another World Championship for Max. Victory is pretty much assured for him: as long as Max manages to finish the race, mathematically, he'll have the third championship in his pocket. 

Daniel corners him in his driver's room before they get out on the tarmac, locking the door behind him. "You got it, okay?", he says to Max, holding him by the shoulders and kissing him, quick but deep. It's still very new to Daniel that he's allowed to just do this. "Almost there. I'll be right behind you. I'll crash into Leclerc if I have to".

Max's laugh bubbles out of his chest easily. "I'll ask GP to activate 'Plan D' if that's the case". 

"You got it, baby", Daniel replies with a smile, and then kisses Max again for good measure. 

Turns out Daniel doesn't have to crash into anyone after all. Max flies past the checkered flag in P1 all by himself, followed by Daniel in P2, and Leclerc in P3. He feels a little bit bad for Charles - another year of fighting for the championship only to end in second place. But then again, that's the nature of F1 - and the destiny of all drivers born into a giant's era, crushed under the sole of Max's ugly golden boot. 

It's Daniel this time who hugs Max as soon as he's out of the car, wrapping his arms happily around his frame. Max screams and whoops, and later on he lifts the trophy high above his head. 

"How do you feel with this year's results?", they ask Daniel once they're working the press circuit. 

"I feel great", he says, and it's true. "Incredibly happy for the opportunity Red Bull has given me this year, and also for Max. We all know 3 is his lucky number". 

—

Daniel takes it easy with the celebrations this time, but that doesn't stop him from sharing a couple drinks with a few other drivers. 

"Another year finishing ahead of you, mate. You gotta step it up", says to him a quite drunk Lando. 

"Dude, I only raced for half the season", Daniel replies. Last year the comment would have probably grated on his nerves, but now it just slides off Daniel. 

"You gotta step it up, mate", he repeats anyway, draining the last of his cup. "D'you know where Carlos is?".

Daniel shakes his head. "No idea, mate. I think I saw him earlier with Charles?". Lando frowns. 

"I'm gonna go find him, okay?", he says right before disappearing without another look back. 

"Alright, man", Daniel says to the empty space left behind. He finishes the last of his drink as well, then texts Max. 

Hey I'm beat. Heading back to the hotel 

Have fun and text me when you get back!!

There's no reply, but Daniel isn't bothered by it. He'd lost Max somewhere in the celebrations, mixed in between his engineers and mechanics. But that's cool: Max deserves to enjoy this with his team. So Daniel says his goodbyes, turns down offers for another drink, and takes a taxi back to the hotel. 

It's like four in the morning when a knock on the door wakes him up. And another, and then another. 

"What the fuck", he mutters as he flicks on the bedside lamp, lifts the bedcovers and pads sleepily to the door. Then he opens it to reveal a flushed Max. Daniel blinks sleep out of his eyes, brain still catching up. "Max? You okay?". 

"Yeah. Can I come in?", he asks.

"Sure, yeah". Daniel moves to the side and lets Max through, closing the door behind him. "Did you have fun at the party?". 

"I missed you", he says, and Daniel knows what's coming even before Max has made a move. He's wearing a white shirt that's missing a couple of buttons, giving him a nice view of Max's throat and collarbone, and he gets the sudden urge to run his tongue all over them. "You left me behind". 

"I was tired", Daniel tries as Max stalks over to him. "I texted you". 

Max hums, face two inches away from Daniel's now. He feels suddenly underdressed in his t-shirt and sweatpants. "I think you should fuck me now though". 

Daniel groans and kisses Max. He hadn't planned on doing any of this - actually, he was going to go to sleep like a reasonable adult, thank you very much. But the way Max's breath stutters when Daniel runs his mouth down the underside of his jaw leaves no possibilities other than doing this .

So Daniel kisses, licks and bites down Max's neck, pushing his shirt to the side and sinking his teeth in. Mine , the caveman part of his brain screams. Max moans as Daniel's hand slips over to the front of his jeans, where he finds him already half-hard. For Daniel. 

"Come on, bed", he says, and Max flops to the mattress happily. He lays himself back and watches with obvious interest, palming himself lazily, as Daniel takes his t-shirt and sweatpants off. Daniel strikes a pose, showing off his tattoos as much as he can. "You like what you see?".

Max laughs. "You know I do", he says, all brutal honesty as always. Then he lifts his arms towards Daniel. "Come on, come here". Daniel goes, climbing over Max and kissing him. It's a good kiss, one of those that you feel all over your body, slow but veering into dirty, with enough tongue to make your toes curl a little. He could eat Max alive. 

"Clothes off, mister", he whispers against Max's mouth, then gets working on Max's shirt while he himself shimmies inelegantly out of his jeans. The pale expanse of Max's chest is then revealed, smooth save for a few smatterings of thin blonde hair. Daniel kisses down the soft expanse of it, but then gets caught up on Max's tits. Because that's what they are: more tits than pecs, incongruously soft in the body of a professional athlete. 

"God, Maxy, look at you", he says, using both hands to grip at them and tweak his hardening nipples. Max makes a keening sound, pliable under Daniel's touch.

"You should get on with it", he protests half-heartedly, pawing at Daniel's shoulder. 

"Are you still sure you want this? You want me fuck you for real?", Daniel asks, forcing the words out. Max nods, flush high on his cheeks. "You got lube?". 

"Front right pocket in my jeans. Got condoms as well", he says, voice already rough. Daniel disengages for a second and fishes Max's pants from the floor, finding the right pocket and retrieving a half-empty travel sized bottle of clear lube and a small stack of condoms. He makes his way back to the bed then, resettling between Max's spread out legs. 

"Someone was feeling optimistic, huh?", Daniel teases. Max's eyes look almost completely black where they meet Daniel's own. 

"I've been thinking about this since we got on the podium", he says by way of an explanation.

Daniel sucks in a breath. "Damn it, Maxy", he whispers, mostly to himself. "Get those boxers off". He does, spreading himself out in front of Daniel, hard and completely naked, unashamed. Daniel takes the bottle of lube, but hesitates with it in his hand. "Have you fingered yourself before?", he asks. 

Max looks at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth. It flops free as he releases it to speak. "Yeah, I have". Great, now Daniel has to picture Max in his bed, fingering himself open and wishing it was someone else instead. Wishing it was Daniel. 

"You wanna show me how you like it?", he asks, running a hand gently over Max's stomach. Like this he can feel the stutter in Max's breath. 

"Yeah. Sure". Daniel hands him the bottle and sits back on his knees, watching as Max spreads the lube over his fingers and rubs them together to warm it up. Then he opens up his legs and reaches between them, pressing his middle finger to himself slowly. Daniel watches as he circles his rim a few times before pushing in to the first knuckle, then to the second, letting out a small hiss at the intrusion.

"Ssshh, baby. Take your time", Daniel says, wrapping his hand around Max's cock lightly and teasing it throughout the process. He needn't have, really: Max stays nice and hard as he pushes his first finger fully into himself, stretching himself perfunctorily. He's already trying to add a second one way too soon. 

Daniel grabs his hand gently, trying to slow him down. "Here. Let me?", he asks, and Max makes a sound of agreement before pulling his hand back to himself and giving control over to Daniel. 

Daniel pours lube onto his own hand and sinks one finger in with ease, hearing Max's grunt as he does. Max was being too fast and unforgiving with himself, as usual, but Daniel wants him to enjoy this. So he makes sure to stretch him properly before adding his index finger as well, taking his time to push and pull. 

He knows he's just brushed Max's prostate when he gives a tiny yelp and his body pulls tight for a second. "There you are", Daniel mutters to himself, aiming for that spot again and again and swallowing down Max's startled moans. 

"Daniel. Daniel ", he groans, reaching for his shoulder again. Daniel is so hard it hurts. "You gotta stop or I'll come". 

Jesus fucking Christ. "Okay, gotcha, Maxy". Daniel stops looking for Max's prostate and settles for brushing it only every few thrusts, focusing instead on opening him up. Soon he's adding a third finger, and Max doesn't make it long before tapping him on the head. 

"Enough, I'm ready. Come on". Daniel gives a few more strokes before pulling his fingers out of Max, feeling how his body shivers while he does. Daniel reaches for the packet of condoms and tears one open, rolling it over himself with practiced ease and pouring some more lube as well. When he looks back at Max, the sight punches all air out of his lungs. 

He's spread out on Daniel's bed, naked and hard, hair disheveled and eyes blown out and dripping lust. The flush over his cheekbones is still there, but now it spreads over to his chest, which is rising and falling harshly already. 

Just a few hours ago, he'd been crowned World Champion for the third time in a row. Now, he's letting his legs fall open and beckoning Daniel over. "Come here", he says, grabbing Daniel and pulling him in until they can kiss again, urgent but sweet anyway. "I want you inside", he whispers against his mouth. 

"Yeah. Anything you want, Maxy". Daniel places himself right where Max wants him and then pushes in little by little, checking Max's face for discomfort. It's gut-punching: both of them moan at the first stretch, and then again as Daniel finally bottoms out, hips flush to Max's. 

Daniel takes a moment to collect himself, otherwise he'll start fucking into Max like an animal and he won't be able to stop. He opens his eyes when he feels Max's chest moving up and down, and for a moment he fears he might be crying but no: when he looks down, Max is laughing. 

Daniel can't help a smile to mirror him. "What?", he asks. 

Max just laughs again and looks at Daniel, eyes full of something he's still too scared to call love. "You're inside of me right now". 

Daniel gives his own surprised chuckle. "Yep, literally balls deep, mate", and that makes Max laugh harder. 

"Never thought this would actually happen". 'I have wanted to sleep with you since I was seventeen!' , he'd said just last week. 

Jesus , Daniel thinks against the swell of affection in his chest, right before kissing Max again. Max breaks the kiss to gasp when Daniel starts moving, pulling out slowly and pushing back in again, building up a steady rhythm. Max wraps both his arms and his legs around him, trying to press himself closer and making encouraging noises as Daniel fucks into him for real now. 

It's too fucking good. Max is clingy and bossy, but still as pliable as ever when Daniel grabs his legs and pulls them up towards Max's chest and over his shoulders. Almost boneless, Max just goes . 

The angle changes like this, and after a little while Daniel can tell he's struck gold: Max becomes alive all of the sudden, cursing in English and then in Dutch and pawing at Daniel. "Keep going, shit, right there, Daniel, right there ".  So Daniel does: he doesn't speed up his thrusts, having found a rhythm that works for Max, but he does fuck into him harder . The noises they make as he slams home in Max's body are downright obscene. 

"That's it, Maxy", he groans in his ear, just to feel Max's full-body shudder. "That's it, good job". Max is clawing at his back and his shoulders - he's probably leaving red indents behind. Daniel doesn't mind. 

He's so turned on he's barely aware of the things falling out of his mouth. "You're doing so good, Max. You like it when I fuck you? I wanna hear your answer". He struggles recognizing his own voice - he doesn't think he's ever heard himself sound so deep and desperate.

Max's own voice is scratchy and half-breathless. "Yeah. Yeah, shit , I do". 

"Was it like this when you fucked other guys?". Max whines. "Tell me, Max". 

"No, it wasn't- ah . Ah , I wanted it to be you". 

"Shit". That's too much for Daniel. 

He fucks into Max harder than before, wrapping a hand around his cock and jerking him off at the same time. The rhythm of his hand is a bit off, but Max doesn't seem to care much - it doesn't take long at all before he's spilling over Daniel's fingers with a half-broken moan, clenching deliciously around his cock. 

Daniel tries to pull out, but a leg wrapped around his hips stops him. "Stay", Max says. He sounds debauched. "Come inside". 

And Daniel does. It's only a few more thrusts into an oversensitive Max before the pleasure punches his guts and he's coming as well, slowing down his thrusts and flopping inelegantly on top of Max's warm body. 

Half-blindly, he reaches for Max's mouth, which receives him happily. He makes a tiny noise when Daniel pulls out. "Sorry", he apologizes, before getting up to discard the used condom in the bathroom. 

Max is already half-asleep when Daniel rejoins him in bed, but he still reaches out towards him with drowsy hands. Daniel never took Max for a cuddler, but he's okay with the situation: he settles against him, fitting his chin over Max's head.

"You know what? I had a pretty good day", he mumbles into Daniel's chest. Daniel laughs. 

"Did ya, now?".

"Um-hum", he hums.

Daniel smiles. "Well, Max. Plenty more days to come". 

And just like that, tangled in the bed sheets with Max, Daniel falls asleep.