Chapter Text
What a fucking year. Horrible, mostly. Fun sometimes. Always painful, always too much, too big.
Liam’s winter had been spent attempting to find himself again, trying to return to the person he was before the 2025 season, or even before that. Dirt bikes and beer pong with his boys, sunsets over the New Zealand countryside and soft guitar. Dumb jokes and homemade food and his niece’s laughter.
It had felt like the first true homecoming he’d had since he was 14, probably because he’d returned like an empty shell. All that had filled him before, all that he was while he tried to shape himself into the perfect driver, was all still lying on the floor of what used to be Helmut Marko’s office. Broken and bloodied.
He’d come into the sport hungry and aggressive and mean, everything to prove, nothing to lose. It’s why he was signed; the team saw that ferociousness in him that had made Sebastian so great. That made Max so great. A younger variety of Mark Webber’s grit, a baby face with the tenacity of Daniel Riccardo. Liam had all the signs of the next great Red Bull driver, most of the talent to back it up, and thirst to prove himself. By the time he made it Max’s side in the main team, he had felt ready. He thought he was ready.
Then everything fell, and he lost himself in the dissent. It cometh before the fall, his grandma had always told him. And she had been right, he’d never been so prideful as the weeks leading up to that immense loss of self.
He returned home to be filled again, to be stuffed full of personhood again. But, as it turns out, building an identity back up from scratch is hard to do in only three weeks, and he hadn’t quite managed it. The ego death had sharp vicious teeth that still clung to him, no matter how many familiar faces he saw. He’d hoped, foolishly maybe, that if he could shake free of the bite and remember who he was, the all the other problems would magically fix themselves around it. Shockingly, they hadn’t. Not only was Liam still dealing with an existential crisis, he was also still - annoyingly - very much in love.
As he drove through the empty roads of Milton Keynes back to his UK apartment, he finally let himself think about the other, somehow worse-than-being-fired thing that had happened last year.
Isack. Fucking hell. Through everything, always Isack.
They’d met properly the first time in Milton Keynes a few days after China, up at Red Bull headquarters. Isack had apparently moved here the second his seat was approved. Liam had been so struck by just how… himself, Isack had been. He was so confidant, you could smell it a mile off, and you could see it in his physicality and demeanor. But he had none of Liam’s aggression. None of his anger. None of his standoffishness or overt competitiveness. None of the traits that usually made the Red Bull higher ups fall over their feet. He was quietly and surprisingly self-assured. Spoke then he wanted to about things he wanted to, never shied away from anything or anyone, including Liam. Weirder still, there was no pity in his eyes when he looked at Liam. He never tried to console him, never tried to relate to the pain. Treated him like he’d been at VCARB since the start of the season and never pointed out how sad this all was.
Liam fell, hard.
He’d like to say Isack wore him down with attempts at friendship, but actually, that’s not at all what happened. He just continued to talk to Liam whenever he wanted to about things that interested him, and after a while Liam relaxed into letting it happen. Relaxed into the ease of it, and found that along with that relaxation came one of the worst crushes he’d ever had in his life. Liam wasn’t the type to be attracted to fame or money and he’d never been even slightly interested in another driver before, so the intensity of it couldn’t have been caused by anything other than the fact that Isack was funny and smart and handsome and paid attention to him. Maybe touched his hair a bit too much, liked listening to Liam play, liked hearing about his hobbies. All the things that make normal, regular people fall in love - so different from the myriad of epic romances turned rivalries he knew usually plagued Formula 1 and its drivers. Soft and gentle, not born out of hate or the heat of battle. Liam had never considered himself normal or regular, but there he was, falling in love like Isack was a cute boy he met at a coffee shop, not his primary competition to make it back into the main team.
It was strange, and it had happened seemingly by accident. While Liam grappled with the fact that he no longer had an identity, Isack was this unshakable immovable thing that he just sort of fell into and could not climb out of. A steady oak tree in the face of Liam’s willowishness.
As he pulled into the driveway for his apartment complex, he felt a toxic mixture of exhaustion from the flight back and terror for the year to come. In a few days, he’d be flying out to Detroit for the 2026 launch. Not only would that mean more jet lag, it would also mean meeting his new car and his new teammate officially for the first time, as well as working with the Red Bull team for the first time since he’d been fired and seeing Isack for the first time since Abu Dhabi. It was going to be a lot. He already missed the rolling green of his hometown, and the relative distance it had provided him for all of this.
Realistically though, as it pertained to Isack, the distance had been imaginary anyway. Despite being on opposite sides of the world, Isack had been texting him through the entire break. Photos of the dog from Isack’s family home in Paris, dumb memes, the occasional gym selfphy that would make Liam want to break his phone. It wasn’t helping, how he refused to disappear from Liam’s life. How persistent he was being. How quickly he’d respond to anything Liam said despite the time difference. Those damn wife beaters he liked to take photos in.
Isack, with his stupidly thick arms and perfect self-assuredness and matcha cologne. Perfectly himself. Perfectly steady. Perfectly terrible for someone who was trying to figure who they were, not fall into someone else. In some ways, it was a good thing they wouldn’t be teammates again this year. The love sickness wasn’t something he was sure he could do another full year of, at least not with Isack in the garage next to him every weekend.
He let himself into his apartment and looked around. Very very empty, the whole place. He’d never bought much furniture, figuring he’d make to the main team, get paid better and then move to Monaco anyway. But obviously that hadn’t really happened, so it looked like this was his forever home now. At least until he lost his seat to some promising new rookie who probably didn’t look as broken as Liam felt. Then maybe he’d… move to America, probably. Like Daniel had. Take up rallying. Leave all this and Isack behind. Ugh.
He sat down on the small couch next to the balcony and let himself sink into the firmness of its barely used pillows, taking a breath out and putting his feet up. He’d check his phone for anything important he might have missed on the flight and then go to bed, try and catch up on sleep before Detroit.
His phone showed him one text from his mum wishing him a safe landing, and a missed call from Arvid. Strange. The two of them hadn’t really spoken enough to be calling one another… maybe it was important? He dialed voicemail.
“Hey, Liam sorry for the random call. I just wanted to ask if you’ve heard back from travel about the flights to Detroit? I can’t get a hold of the travel team and I haven’t really packed so if it’s like, tomorrow or something, I’m sort of screwed, and my mum’s really worked up because she’s never left the UK before and-"
It went on like that for a while. Poor kid. Liam remembered his first launch, he’d been a nervous wreck too. And this would be a big one, pretty scary for a first timer. But he hadn’t heard about travel yet either, so he couldn’t do much to help.
Actually… maybe there was one thing. One thing he’d told himself he wouldn’t do. But, if it was for Arvid’s benefit…
He opened his WhatsApp messages with Isack.
Liam:
Hey man have you heard anything about travel yet for Detroit?
My rookie is having a panic attack about it
It was probably fine to be texting Isack about things like travel. As long as he didn’t initiate friend-like conversation. That was the real danger zone.
Isack:
Welcome home cowboy ;))
No I haven’t but that’s because I’m flying in on Max’s plane
Liam rolled his eyes. In part because of the familiar nickname that seemed deliberately crafted to make him choke on a blush, and in part because of course. Of course Isack would be flying in with Max.
Liam:
Way to hit the big time
Isack:
Yup, call me the French mongoose
Liam:
Why the fuck would I do that?
Isack:
Because I’m a small successful killer 
Like a mongoose
Idiot. Liam smiled at his phone screen.
Liam:
You’re so weird. Also lions eat mongooses
so have fun on your plane ride with the literal Dutch lion
Isack:
Eh. Max can eat me if he wants. Guy is mad hot
…Oh. Well that was… Liam wasn’t sure what to think of that. He just stared at his phone, unsure how to react. Isack might have just been kidding, but still that’s not something anyone wants to hear the man they’re in love with say, no matter how hard Liam was trying to stuff down his feelings and move on. Max was- well. He was everything Liam wasn’t right now.
The pause didn’t seem to phase Isack, because of course it didn’t.
Isack:
I’m flying out to go meet him in Monaco tomorrow. I’ll see you at the launch
Don’t die from missing me
Liam:
Don’t die in a plane accident
There was no need overreact. Liam absolutely did not feel the impulse to type out PLEASE STOP TEXTING ME THINGS LIKE THAT I NEED TO STOP THINKING ABOUT YOU, or pick up the throw pillow on his couch and scream into it. Instead he just calmly called Arvid back, said hello, introduced himself properly and explained that they would likely hear back from travel in the next few hours.
-
Detroit has this vibe to it that Liam can’t quite explain. The city itself is very beautiful, nice water and historic buildings, but it’s got this energy that makes you feel like winter is a constant all year. Even in the warmish sun of midday, the air was still heavy with silent anticipation for the coming chill. In the car on the way to the launch rehearsal, Liam watched snow-donned abandoned buildings slowly turn into high rise apartments while Arvid fidgeted in the seat next to him, his mum asleep on the other passenger side.
“So we go straight there, and then do the rehearsal, and then go back to the hotel, and then go back to the venue for the real thing tomorrow, right? What happens to our bags? Do we just leave them in the car once we get there?”
The jet lag was killing Liam, but he was trying very hard not to come off as rude by answering each of Arvid’s very long, very detailed questions anyway. They’d be stuck together for the year, might as well make it as pleasant as possible.
“Mhm. Leave ‘em in the back, the guys will take them to the hotel for us.”
“Okay. Do you think everyone else is already there? I heard Riccardo’s coming?”
“Mm, yeah. I think he is. You can probably just call him Daniel though.”
Liam had actually forgotten to check if Daniel was planning to come. It had slipped his mind while he tried to figure out how he was going to cope with being around Isack again.
“I met him last year for a filming thing with Max, but I don’t know if we’re on first name bases yet. You guys are close, right?”
Liam took a breath in and tried to will his eyes to stay open.
“Not really. Sort of. We used to be.”
Daniel Riccardo… that friendship had ended up being quite tricky in the end. Close was maybe the wrong word, but they had always been on good terms, and Daniel had known him since he joined the junior program at 14. They were still on good terms in fact, but in the few years after Daniel’s retirement, they had stopped talking as much as they used to. Mostly that was because when things started going south, Liam had needed to stop responding to Daniel completely. The man had this ability to see right through anyone and into the most shameful parts of their souls, which wasn’t something Liam could tolerate at the time. Plus, how do you talk to the guy whose seat you took, then failed to live up to the legacy of? It was hard. Just like everything else in Liam’s life right now, it was hard and complicated and a little painful. Arvid seemed to register he’d said something wrong, he blinked.
“Oh. Right, sorry.”
They were silent after that. Painful as it might be, Liam would actually be pretty happy if there was another friendly face like Daniel’s at the launch. He was going to need it if he was going to try not to cling to Isack like a leaf, or if he wanted to pull through this event without spiraling back into that pit of ego death and emptiness. More sleep would help too probably, so he finally let himself close his eyes, falling into a half-dream for the remainder of the drive.
-
“Hey mate, nice to see you again.”
Liam watched Max slap Arvid on the shoulder, company issued energy drink in his other hand. It was brutally cold inside Michigan Central, so all three men had been allowed to stay in casual clothes during the rehearsal for extra warmth. Liam felt glad for that, he didn’t feel particularly inclined to want to stand next to Max while he was decked out in the main team get-up just yet anyway.
Max shot Liam a nod in greeting, smiled and raised his drink, but didn’t attempt to come over and hug him. That was another thing Liam was glad for.
“Where’s Isack?”
Arvid was looking around the very busy room for any sight of the final Red Bull driver. The two of them had met a few times, and Arvid seemed to have taken a liking to Isack already. That wasn’t much of a surprise, most people who met Isack seemed to take a liking to him.
“He’s signing hats, I think.” Max looked around with him briefly for a moment before they were interrupted.
They were greeted by a very stressed looking stage manager, who introduced herself and then not so gently corralled the three men up the stairs of the performance venue and down a fluorescent lit corridor behind the stage. They passed an array of sound engineers and lighting mechanics dressed in all black before they came to a stop about halfway down the hall. Their chaperone pointed to a door on their left with Max, Laurent and Alan’s surnames printed in large black font, then another with Arvid, Liam and Isack’s.
“Max’s dressing room is just here,” She pointed at the first sign, speaking to the two younger drivers. “and you two are just over there. I’ll leave you to get settled and then I’ll come back and grab all of you when we need you for soundcheck in…” She checked her phone. “about 10 minutes.”
They thanked her and Arvid and Liam made their way inside their greenroom, which was thankfully much better heated than the stage area.
They were met with the site of a small bulky French driver getting up from where he was sitting sprawled out on the greenroom couch, underdressed for the weather in a team kit and jeans. The couch was decorated with sharpies and caps that were clearly halfway through being signed. Liam only got a second to take in the room before Isack was blocking his vision.
“Hey cowboy.”
“Oh, hey man. When did you get-" Isack pulled him into a hug that was somehow too tight and not tight enough at the same time, winding him slightly in his eagerness. “-oof.”
There on his skin was that same matcha cologne from last year. One of Isack’s main indulgences was fragrance, but this particular smell was absolutely Liam’s favourite of the scents he owned. It was herbal and masculine and earthy, much like the man himself. He smelled like the one thing that had made Liam want to keep coming back to track, even on those days where just eating breakfast felt like hardest thing he could ever possibly do. Liam had to concentrate to stop himself from accidentally inhaling too deeply.
“Like an hour ago, been doing this since.”
Isack pulled away from their hug and pointed at the hats while Liam tried not to let his hand linger too long on the small of Isack’s back. How long is considered normal and friendly again? He couldn’t remember.
“Cowboy? Where did that come from?” Arvid asked, reminding the room that he was still there.
“Ignore him,” Liam rolled his eyes to hide the blush that was threatening to make its way up his neck. “Isack’s just being a dick.”
“Aw, you’re too modest.” Isack grinned at him. “Tell him how you got that name.”
“It’s so stupid. No one else even calls me that.”
“Well they should.” Isack turned to Arvid, adopting his ‘I’m about to tell you a story’ tone of voice. “In Austin last year, the whole team went out to this barbeque place, and this guy was the only one of us that didn’t fall off the mechanical bull. No one even asked him to, he just got right on and didn’t let go for like 20 minutes straight.” He turned his gaze back to Liam, teasing smile out in full force. “I’ve never seen anything like it, I swear. Magical. Practically born to ride, this guy.”
Fuck. See it’s when he said things like that, in that tone of voice, that made Liam feel so crazy. His smile and his constant teasing… Liam hated blushing, and he hated how easily Isack could make him do it.
“Fuck off.” Liam said with absolutely no bite whatsoever. Isack didn’t seem to be paying much attention though, he was busy squeezing Liam’s bicep.
“Yo, did you work out over the break? Your arms are bigger.”
“I- no it’s just the, uh-" for Christ’s sake. When was that stage manager going to come back and save him from this humiliation ritual? “I was just on the bikes a lot. It gets pretty physical when you do it every day.”
Isack put a friendly hand in Liam’s hair and smiled blindingly at Arvid.
“See? Born to ride.”
Liam fought a shiver at the feelings of Isack’s fingertips brushing his ear. Is 24 years old too young to die of heart failure? Liam thought it seemed more than medically possible in that moment. He ducked his head out of Isack’s grasp, and went to put his things down next to the couch.
“Okay. I have to go find Max, did you either of you see him on the way in?”
“Yeah he’s in the other greenroom.” Arvid answered, saving Liam from having to try and speak.
“Thanks. Nice to see you again Arvid, try not to get stage fright tomorrow, yes?”
The poor kid’s pupils went wide as planets, and Isack giggled at him before returning his attention to Liam.
“Li, come get dinner tonight?”
He should not, under any circumstance, go get dinner with Isack tonight. That would have been a death sentence to all the work he’d put in over the break to try and get over this damn guy.
“Uh, yeah. Maybe.”
“Cool, text me later. See you guys.”
Isack turned and left, closing the greenroom door behind him and leaving a thick silence in his wake.
“What was that?” Arvid asked. He was looking at Liam like one might look at a rubik's cube, gently rolling Liam over in his hand to see if he was worth solving.
“What was what?”
Probably, Arvid was curious about why Liam had suddenly gone bright red and rigid. Regardless, he seemed to decide after a moment the rubik's cube was not worth solving today.
“Nothing.” Arvid shrugged. “You two seem close, though. That’s nice.”
Liam would rather stop talking about this now. He could still feel Isack’s fingers in his hair, so his heart rate was already under considerable stress.
“Put your stuff down, they’ll come get us soon.”
-
The rehearsal went fine, mostly just a lot of ‘Liam, can you move to the left?’s. By the time it was done, Liam realised he had a problem.
Isack had invited him out for dinner again over text. Liam went back to his hotel fully intending to stay there for the rest of the night. Then he spent too long picking out an outfit from his suitcase while continuing to tell himself he really shouldn’t go, that it would only make things worse. Then he’d booked a taxi while he convinced himself they’d just catch up and then leave, that they’d just talk about sport and have a beer and then go their separate ways. He shifted the way his t-shirt was sitting tucked into his pants after he got out of the taxi, all the while thinking he should turn around and get back into it. By the time he made it to the door, he had finally decided that this would be a test. He would just go in and see how much he could cope with without losing his mind, see if a friendship between them might still be possible. If it wasn’t, that would be okay. He could teach himself to cope with that.
He hadn’t expected, however, that Max and Daniel would also be in attendance tonight. Isack hadn’t mentioned that it was actually Max who had organised this little outing. That made for a not-so-fun surprise when Liam showed up to the bistro and was met with not only the object of his overwhelming affections, but also the object of his greatest envy and a guy who knew how to empathise with anyone - who could pick up on any discomfort no matter how small and who knew Liam well enough to see how terribly he was actually doing. Great.
“Big dog!” Daniel’s familiar greeting hit him from the other side of the fire-warmed patio before he’d even had a chance to ask the waiter which table Isack had booked. It was followed by a serious of loud, deep barking noises, and the sound of Max Verstappen’s laugher.
Despite the unpleasant surprise, he couldn’t deny that it was still a comfort to see Daniel’s smile. He made his way over, trying not to look as ambushed as he felt.
“You’re such a child.” Liam laughed gently as Daniel got up to pat him on the back, still barking at him through a grin.
“Damn right. Missed you, brother.” He offered Liam a smaller but more genuine smile, which Liam just barely managed to return.
“No Arvid?” Liam said, sending a glance over the table and realising his teammate was the only one missing from this private Red Bull driver’s dinner. He pulled out the chair next to Isack’s and sat down, watching as Daniel failed to do the same.
“Nope. Max wanted to get black out munted tonight, didn’t you bud?”
Max looked up at Daniel, genuinely affronted.
“No- what I said was, I wanted to get one drink with my teammates. Arvid had plans with his mother, so I invited him to come another time, and you invited yourself.”
Daniel shrugged. “Agree to disagree.”
“What is munted?” Isack piped up from beside Liam, and Max tried his best to answer before Daniel interrupted him.
“Speaking of! I’m going to go get us a round of pints.” He put a hand in Max’s hair. “And one G&T for the freak.”
The way his hand sifted through Max’s hair reminded Liam of the way Isack had touched Liam’s own hair earlier. He was hit with a small tingle of the phantom feeling that made him shiver.
“I’ll come with you,” Max added, and he got up to join Daniel on his mission.
The dinner went surprisingly well, mostly just lighthearted banter that Liam more listened to than participated in. Max was pretty taken with Isack, that much was becoming obvious. They must have bonded on their plane ride, because they were extremely casual with one another now. Max would even touch Isack’s shoulders when they shared a joke, which was not a level of friendly Liam had ever reached with Max. He tried, he really tried not to let the jealously get to him when they smiled at one another, but it was gnawing through his stomach every time Isack laughed a little too loud at something Max said.
At one point, Max had been showing Isack something on his phone, and Daniel had leant over until he could speak quietly to Liam over the bustle of the restaurant.
“You okay, man?”
The question didn’t startle Liam. He’d sort of been expecting it, but he’d hoped that the fact they weren’t as close as they used to be might deter Daniel from asking anyway.
“Do I not look okay?”
“Na, yeah. You look fine, I just…”
His face said I know something’s up, but I won’t press you on it if you don’t want me to.
“I’m fine.”
Daniel seemed to accept that, but not necessarily believe it. He crossed his arms and lent back in his chair.
“Aite, if you say so.”
After a moment of pause, he looked back over at Liam.
“You’re lucky, you know.”
Liam attempted a laugh, but it came out short and sarcastic. “Ha, sure dude. Lucky is not how I would describe the last year of my life.”
“No, I mean you’re lucky with him.” He nodded in Isack’s direction. “We need people who care about us on track. No one will admit it, but we do.”
What an odd thing to say. Liam’s one-sided crush and Isack’s platonic friendliness hardly qualified for genuine care, in Liam’s opinion.
“What? We’re friends. I don’t think I’d say it’s- that he...”
Daniel’s smiled twitched, like he knew something Liam didn’t, and then he looked over at Max who was doubled over in laughter at his own joke.
“It’s crazy. You guys remind me so much of us when we were younger. I used to wear that exact look on my face you’ve got now, before Max found me.”
What a strange way to describe a friendship. When Liam just frowned to himself and didn’t respond, Daniel pursed his lips and regarded him gently. There was, in his expression, not pity exactly, but something closer to understanding in his eyes.
“Piece of advice from an old timer?” He said, taking a sip of his beer. Liam just nodded in permission.
“The emptiness only lasts as long as you let it. Give in a bit, let yourself have what you want. Or you’ll just end up empty and repressed forever, wishing you’d done more while you still could.”
He said that last part so casually that Liam almost didn’t process it, but when he finally did he found himself at a loss for words. How did Daniel even know that’s what was happening to him? It’s not like he knew what it was like to be in love with his teammate, or had ever been made to feel less than by his team - he was a legend at Red Bull. He’d never been made to feel.. unwanted… disposable…. like the second son…… oh. Right. Shit.
Then Daniel shook the intense expression from his face, rolled his shoulders back, stretched his arms and got up.
“Alright fellas, thank you for the food and the company, but I’ve got to be up early tomorrow. Call time’s at 9, unlike you slackers.”
He argued with Max about the bill for a bit before Max won and Daniel ended up promising to pay him back next time they were in America. Before he left, he put a hand on Liam’s shoulder and spoke softly to him.
“Come find me after the launch tomorrow, yeah? I’ve got something to show you.”
Liam just gave a small nod, still not quite able to find his words.
He watched Max watch him go, catching a feeling of the unspoken drift between the two older drivers as Daniel sent a final look back over his shoulder at the table. The two of them were so familiar with one another, but there was something melancholic about that fact that Liam couldn’t put his finger on. Something like a missed opportunity, or a broken promise.
-
Liam’s dreams that night made too much sense.
Normally, his unconscious brain liked to show him half snippets of conversations or feelings in a blurry mess of nothing, which Liam would try fruitlessly to detangle in the morning. Tonight though, there was nothing to detangle. The imagine was clearer than it had any right to be, not a ripple in the water’s surface.
Isack was maybe 10 years older than he was now. There was royal blue silk around his hair where it pressed against a fantastical imagination of a pillow. His eyes were closed, head tipped black as he jolted under some external force, the warm tone of his skin shining where moonlight was hitting his chest.
Liam looked down at his hands. They were older, more tanned, and scattered with fine brown hairs. They gipped Isack’s waist, and he realised it was him who was making the man underneath him jolt like that. They were connected so fully that it seemed like he might fall directly through Isack’s body and into the bed, but he couldn’t feel it. He knew somehow that these were not his hands, and that was why he could not feel his body, but he couldn’t place who the hands actually belonged to. His thoughts were all muddled together with longing and lust. When he looked up again, Isack was broader and taller. His hair was an auburn brown, almost blonde.
He heard Max’s voice, muffled and twisted in pleasure, too real and solid to have been just a dream. When he tried to open his mouth to speak, his accent was wrong. Australian, not New Zealander.
-
Max had waited until exactly 10 minutes to 12am before leaving his hotel room. Early enough that he knew Daniel would still be up and pacing around, late enough that it wasn’t likely anyone would see him leave his own room. He checked and then triple checked his phone for the room number before knocking, wanting to be absolutely sure that on the other side of the door was his ex-teammate, and not some poor sleeping Ford representative.
“Hi.”
Max didn’t receive a greeting back when the door clicked open. Instead, he was met with an obviously stressed looking Daniel, shirtless and hair wet from what was probably his third shower of the night. It was his favourite way to deal with difficult emotions, other than long runs. On nights like tonight, when Daniel was expecting Max to call on him, he tended to go through a lot of difficult emotions, and therefore a lot of showers.
“Liam’s next door.” Daniel stated blankly, but he knew as well as Max did that that wasn’t going to stop this. They’d once hooked up in a gala bathroom with the entire headquarters sitting outside, so Liam being within earshot of this conversation was almost tame by comparison.
“And that means we can’t talk?”
Daniel bit his lip and then relented, stepping back reluctantly to open the door for Max to walk through.
“You want a drink?”
He crossed to the mini bar, notably not looking in Max’s direction. After almost 10 years of this, Max was getting pretty tired of Daniel’s constant hesitance. He’d thought it might get better once he was retired and out of the spotlight, but it seemed to have only gotten worse. Max remembered a time where the hesitance had been fun, though. In the early days, Daniel would push him up against walls and touch him like he couldn’t help himself. He’d whisper things about how out of control Max made him feel, how he couldn’t think about anything else, all the things he wanted to do to him. Now though, it was just a bit sad. He was softer and sweeter, and his hesitance felt kinder. Max didn’t need or want kindness, and he didn’t like seeing Daniel sad.
“Not really. Come here.”
Max held out a hand for him, taking a seat on the bed. He watched Daniel pause, straighten up and look back at him. He watched him run a hand through his hair, seemingly caught between telling himself not to obey and acting on instinct. Eventually his better half appeared to lose the battle, and he swung himself over until he was close enough that Max could grab his hand and pull him in. He came to a still between where Max’s thighs were laying open on the edge of the bed, eyes still avoiding Max’s as they focused on where their hands were clasped together.
“What… did you want to talk about?” He asked, fake concentration on his face.
Max ran a hand along his waist, pausing to push against the skin of his abdomen, feeling how it had softened without constant training. He was smaller these days, all over. His neck was thinner, his arms were thinner, he’d lost a lot of muscle from his chest. It wasn’t quite fragility, he still looked strong, but the Greek god that Max had fallen in love with all those years ago had retreated. Now, he was quietly beautiful. He looked like a normal, human man. A beautiful human man.
“I didn’t want to talk, actually.”
Daniel nodded at the floor. “I know.”
Max took that as permission enough. He wrapped his hands around Daniel’s waist and pulled him until he fell to the bed with a surprised groan. When he was low enough, Max swung his legs over Daniel’s hips, pinning him in place so he could sit in his lap and look down at him. Daniel’s look of surprise faded, and he smiled - just a small thing, finally making eye contact. Max didn’t really like his grown-out beard. It masked the full effect of that smile.
He bent down to press a soft kiss to the side of Daniel’s mouth. Then his cheekbone. Then his ear, then his neck. Daniel's hands came up to burry themselves in Max’s hair as he arched up into it, a small sigh of contentedness sending vibrations through Max’s lips.
He would let this be gentle tonight. He saw that look on Daniel’s face at the bistro while he talked to Liam. He could tell that he was seeing himself in the young Kiwi, and that it was bringing back old memories for him. Tonight, Daniel would want to be soft with him. He’d want to fuck Max like an apology, like he could change the fact that he’d never let this be more than sex if he was loving enough in this moment alone. Max would indulge him, not that it would fix anything. Tomorrow they’d wake up and everything would be as it always had been.
“Mm…we should really stop doing this-”
Max stopped peppering kisses to his neck and sat up, annoyed.
“If we were going to stop, we would have done it years ago. It’s been forever, I’ve missed this. Please, Daniel?”
He watched Daniel’s face for signs of permission, noting a few new wrinkles near the corners of his eyes. Eventually, he gave a small nod, which Max devoured before either of them had a chance to change their minds.
He kissed a steady path down tanned skin, shuffling backwards to get lower, pausing to bite at the elastic of Daniel’s sweatpants, playing with the fabric, not wanting to rush this. He looked up once again for permission before lowering it, and as he did Daniel put a hand to his jaw. He wasn’t smiling anymore, the look in his eyes was a horrible mixture of adoration and sadness. His voice was quiet and broken when he spoke.
“I love you.”
There was a time when hearing that would have made Max so happy he would have cried. Now, it just felt like a taunt.
“Bit late for that, I think.”
-
Austin, with its hot sun and dusky afternoons and easy air, was Isack’s new favourite place to visit. Texans are some of the more chilled fans on the calendar, which made nights like this possible. Just casual Thursday nights, where they could be out in public together as a team, or book a venue, and just have fun. It was a nice change from the constant pressure from the second half of the season which Isack may have been new to this year, but was already sick of.
Liam showed up to the restaurant way later than everyone else, alone. Isack immediately abandoned.. was it Lisa? Laura? One of the friendly VCARB mechanics from the other side of the garage, and went right over to get him from where he was standing awkwardly near the door.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t just the weather or the people that made him like Texas so much. It was also maybe a little bit that his teammate liked to show up to every event in Austin in cowboy getup. The hat, the boots, the belt, flares. The whole damn thing. Maybe that was… fine.
Fine. Hot. Whatever.
And he really, really looked the part, too. Blonde hair and muscles and a tan. What was Isack supposed to do? Not run his hand along Liam’s broad shoulders when they hugged hello? Not grip the leather belt around his hips a little bit as they separated, tug at it a little bit? He never claimed to be a saint, damn. And Liam had the kind of waist that necessitated tugging anyway.
“All right?” Liam asked him, the chain around his neck reflecting blues and purples from the fairy lights around them. Or maybe the chain just glowed on its own, same as the man who wore it.
“Yeah. Would love a fucking tequila though.”
As much as that would have been nice, both drivers needed to be in the car at 10am the next morning, so were therefore relegated to watching as their coworkers indulged, getting progressively rowdier over the course of the afternoon. By about 9pm, the responsible among them had gone back to their hotel rooms and the rest had started attempting to ride the mechanical bull in the back part of venue. All with zero success, a few with minor injuries. Liam and Isack watched on from a booth nearby, practically pissing themselves with every new fall.
“Oh, shit.” Liam put a hand over his mouth to hide his laugh, but Isack tipped his head back and cackled like a hyena when their head tyre engineer almost broke his arm.
“Looking good Tom!” He hollered form across the room.
“Oi! You have a go then!”
Isack just laughed at him. “No way in hell! I’m not breaking my ass before free practice.”
Tom gestured rudely at the small driver before leaving the metal bull alone in it's pen. Isack looked at Liam, expecting to still find him trying to cover a laugh, but Liam was not laughing anymore.
“I’ll do it.”
He had a look on his face that Isack hadn’t seen in a long time. It was this (honestly a bit intimidating) expression of competitive fire, mixed with a melancholy of some type. Liam used to wear that look constantly while he was in the main team, but since coming back to VCARB, Isack had only ever seen it resurface occasionally, and he’d never seen it quite like this. Jesus. Liam was hot when he was feeling competitive. Still though, getting on a metal death trap was a terrible idea this close to a race weekend. He should probably intervene.
“Nooo. You could break something. It’s way too risky man.”
Liam didn’t even look at him as he stood up.
“Watch my shit.”
Well, okay. Fuck Isack then he guessed.
For the next 20 or so minutes, Isack’s entire world had to reconfigure itself around what he was seeing. Liam looked like a god up there, light in his hair, thick thighs wrapped around the hard metal of the bull’s back. Isack watched him lean forward, grip the animal by its horns when it tilted towards the floor, and found that he was suddenly envious of an inanimate object. Liam threw his head back as the thing attempted to rear him off particularly hard, letting his body soften as it jolted, absorbing the force. His torso twisted, showing off that stupid waist under the fabric of his shirt, his arms flexed in some kind of personal attack to Isack’s mental health.
At one point, he lulled his face to the side, looking back at their booth and pinning Isack in place with a glare that was equal parts blissed-out and proud. His eyes were half closed. He was smiling like Isack had never seen him smile before.
Their coworkers were shouting and cheering, but as far as Isack was concerned, there was only the two of them in that room. His vision had tunneled and his veins felt like worms they were trying so hard to pump blood around his system.
Oh. Fuck. Was the most coherent thought he managed.
Isack wasn’t even able to get up and go pat Liam on the back after he dismounted. He was busy waiting for his jeans to untent themselves.
Vaguely, Isack registered that this is probably what people mean when they say love hits like a right hook.