Waiting for George to drop his dossier

The air in the Red Bull garage hummed with a low, metallic kind of tension, the kind that came before a storm or a qualifying session.

Daniel could feel it crawling under his skin; engineers shouting over radio noise, the tang of fuel in the air, the ache of heat pressing against the back of his neck. The sweat across his forehead could pass for Abu Dhabi humidity, but Daniel knew it wasn’t the weather making him sweat.

He smiled anyway - too quick, too sharp - because that’s what everyone expected.

Max stood a few metres away, half turned toward the monitors, his posture perfect, calm. He didn’t look tense, but Daniel saw it - in the angle of his shoulders, the way stillness vibrated just beneath the surface. Where others saw composure, Daniel could see the tension threatening to break.

“You good?” Daniel asked, tone light enough to pass for casual but the slight squeeze of his glove said different.

Max gave a small nod, eyes still on the screen. “Yeah. You?”

“Always.” A lie, clean and practiced.

The call to the pit lane cut through the hum like a blade. Mechanics scattered into motion, and the garage snapped into focus – heat, noise, urgency. Daniel pulled on his gloves, the fabric catching slightly on his damp skin. He kept his eyes on the monitors a beat too, watching Max’s name flash green as his car rolled out.

The brief silence before his own engine started felt heavier than it should have. He told himself it was just another practice run, but the pulse in his throat said otherwise.

Helmet down, radio crackled, the world narrowed in the cockpit, a small, sealed space with nowhere to hide from his own heartbeat.

Eyes laser focused, two voices in his head Daniel let out a shaky breath – he knew that was his last chance before he rolled out the garage, to try and shake the last of his nerves.

“Okay Daniel, let’s go” Simon his race engineer rumbled over the headset.

Sixty minutes to practice, he knew there was a particular corner that gave him the most trouble and he was hoping to nail it this session. Endless hours spent on his racing rig at home practicing the corner was all fine. When you get to the track its different, the heat, the media, the camera’s, the chaos and a couple of drivers who kamikaze the way around the track made his hours in his racing rig child’s play.

Daniel settled into the cockpit, every strap snug, every switch flicked with mechanical precision. The engine thrummed beneath him, vibrating through the wheel and into his bones. Outside, Max was already on track carving through corners with the kind of smooth, effortless speed Daniel both admired and resented.

He exhaled, pulling the helmet down over his face, and tried to focus. The track stretched out before him, each corner marked in his mind with obsessive detail. The first few laps were clean.

Just him, the car and rhythm but the tension in his chest didn’t ease.

Max’s presence was a constant hum at the edge of his concentration, a reminder of how far ahead he could be.

“Focus” he muttered under his breath, hands gripping the wheel tighter as tires bit into the asphalt.  He felt every vibration, every whisper of the wind, every inch the car shifted beneath him.  And then just as he was easing into the flow – Max appeared in his mirrors, closer than he expected.

A corner approached too fast, Daniel braked hard, but Max’s car nudged the edge of his line and forcing him wide. The tires screamed in protest, a jolt of panic ran through him.  His pulse spiked, heat rising behind his eyes.

“Fuck’s sake” he hissed, fighting to regain control, his hands shook slightly on the wheel but forced himself to focus.

Lap after lap the tension built, Daniel fought the grip of his own anxiety whilst chasing perfect, however every minor slip was magnified by Max’s shadow on the track. He tried to shake it telling himself it just practice- yet the weight of expectation pressed down heavier with every turn.

By the final lap, the edge of frustration had taken root, Max glided past another corner cleanly, and Daniel caught himself gripping the wheel a fraction too tight, muscles coiled and ready. He tried to stay calm and focused but the mix of adrenaline, anxiety and unspoken rivalry made every motion feel electric.

As he pulled into the pits, his helmet came off, sweat clinging to his skin, chest heaving.  The radio was quiet, the pit crew’s chatter distant. Max was already walking past, eyes fixed on telemetry, oblivious to the storm raging inside Daniel.

And Daniel knew- whatever was coming next, it wouldn’t stay on the track.

The engine died with a deep, metallic sigh, leaving only the hiss of cooling brakes and the echo of his own pulse in his ears. The moment the cockpit opened, the noise of the garage came rushing back.  Air guns, shouted data, the thump of tyres being stacked but yet it still felt far away.

Daniel pulled off his gloves, his movements stuff. Sweat slicked the inside of his palms, he wanted to throw the gloves onto the floor, but the last shred of professionalism kept his hands still. The screen above his head showed lap times scrolling by, Max’s name sitting comfortably near the top.

He tugged the helmet off; the air his face hot and dry. The smell of fuel and rubber mixed with something bitter he couldn’t name.

“Good run mate,” someone from the crew said as they passed. Daniel nodded without looking.

Across the garage, Max had already climbed out, talking quietly with an engineer, expression unreadable behind the visor still clipped to his head. Daniel caught the faintest glance in his direction – quick, impersonal – and felt his jaw tighten.

It shouldn’t have mattered. Just practice. Just data. But the small part of him that was still burning from that corner, from the shove wide and the loss of rhythm, refused to let it go.

He set his helmet down with a little more force than necessary.

The others were packing up telemetry units, rolling carts, checking notes; the session was over, but Daniel’s pulse hadn’t slowed. Every noise in the garage scraped against his nerves.

He took a long drink from the bottle in hand, eyes still fixed on the back of Max’s suit as the younger driver disappeared into the hallway that led to he private rooms.

Daniel hesitated for a heartbeat.

Then followed.  

The door slammed behind him, the sound sharp enough to make the air vibrate. For a moment, the room was silent except for the low rumble of the air-conditioning and the ragged drag of Daniel’s breath.

“The fuck was that all about?” he snapped, words tumbling out before he could stop them. “You nearly put me off the track out there- do you even fucking care?”

Max stood a few feet away, still in his race suit, helmet on, half turned towards the wall of lockers. In the dark curve of his visor, Daniel caught his own reflection – flushed, shaking furious.

“I’m just supposed to sit there and laugh it off?” Daneil pressed on, his voice rising “While you ride up my arse and shove me wide because the great fucking Max Verstappen needs to get by? So, what, fuck my lap, fuck my race-yeah?”

He was almost breathless now, the words scraping raw in his throat.

Max turned fully then, visor facing him, voice low and steady. “You were overdriving” he said simply “you need to breathe”

The calm tone hit harder than any shove on the track. Daniel barked a short, disbelieving laugh. “I wasn’t over-fucking-driving. You were right there on me the whole time. You didn’t get me space for a manoeuvre”

Max didn’t answer immediately. The pause stretched, heavy and uncomfortable. Daniel could feel the adrenaline ebbing from his veins, leaving only the tight aches in his chest.

He dragged a hand through his hair, pacing a few steps just to keep moving, because stopping meant feeling everything at once.

“You always do this,” he muttered, quieter now but sharper somehow. “You act like it’s nothing. Like none of it gets to you.”

Max tilted his head slightly, visor still hiding his face. “and you act like it all has to,” he said, a voice even but softer than before.

The words landed somewhere deeper than Daniel wanted them to. His throat felt tight, his heartbeat loud in his ears.

“Don’t” Daniel said, shaking his head. “Don’t do that calm thing-don’t turn away like I’m just…”

He broke off, his voice cracking on the edge of the sentence. The fight was slipping away from him, leaving something rawer behind.

Max took one step closer, slow enough not to startle “You’re shaking “

Daniel let out a breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. “Yeah, no shit”

Neither of them moved for a moment. The air in the small room felt still, heavy with the rumble of machines and the faint scent of rubber and sweat.

Then Max’s voice, low again; “Breathe”

And this time, Daniel did, not because he wanted to, but because Max said it that way- like a command but a gentle one.

The sound of the breath filled the space between them, louder than it should have been. The tension changed shape-less sharp, more fragile and Daniel finally looked up meet the dark visor in front of him.

He could see himself reflected back, eyes wide, jaw tight-but he searched for more, something beyond the mirrored surface. He knew this feeling; it had crept between them before. Their connection had always been fluid: first teammates, then friends, sometimes something heavier when the edges blurred.

Max felt it too, that same pull-the instinct to steady, to ground. He had been forged in confrontation, trained to answer pressure with control. But with Daniel it was different; he didn’t want to win; he wants to ease it. To quiet the storm that lived in Daniel’s chest, to anchor him the only he knew how.

The silence between them stretched until it felt alive, pulsing with everything that hadn’t been said. Daniel’s shoulders eased by a fraction, the tremor in his hands slowing. Max didn’t move away; he only breathed with him, steady and deliberate, matching the rhythm until it settled into something even.

The noise from the garage outside was a distant memory now. Here there was only tick of the air-con and the quiet thud of two heartbeats trying to find the same pace.

When Max reached out, the movement was small-barely more than shift in the air, but it was enough. The rest of the world slipped out of focus as the room fell still, the moment stretching long enough to hold everything they couldn’t say.

The faint brush of his fingers against Daniel’s cheek undid him. He felt the tight coil inside start loosen, the fight slipping away. Max had that effect on him-always had. It was the way he helped, not with words but a calm presence; the quiet reminder to stop fighting and simply breath.

The fact that Max still hadn’t taken off his helmet didn’t bother Daniel; if anything, it made the moment feel sharper, more contained. He couldn’t bring himself to meet Max’s eyes anyway-not now, not like this. The mirrored visor was easier, a barrier that somehow steadied him. All he need was Max’s quiet control that always managed to pull him back from the edge.

Max’s fingers took lingered a moment longer on his face but they slip to the zip of Daniel’s racing suit and slowly began to pull down.

“Breathe” Max’s voice rumbled – deeper, lower -firmer than before.

Daniel nodded slightly and closed his eyes rolling his shoulders to release his arms out the suit as the zip reached its destination, He felt his hands slip under the hem of his shirt splayed against his chest urging Daniel to back up to the door.

Daniel let out a breath- his back hit the door as he held his arms up and Max pushed the rest of shirt over head- his sweat slicked olive skin pressed against the cool door – the mix of temperatures threatened to overwhelm Daniel.

 “Daniel, breathe” Max commanded, soft – low

Max’s tone had sent electricity pulsing through his body and straight to his crotch- his cock hard and pulsating even though he had been barely touched yet. A mixture of heavy breaths between them, Max in his helmet, barely speaking whilst taking maximum control over his body overwhelmed all of his sense and it was exactly what he needed.

Before Daniel had even registered, Max had slipped away to a cabinet on the other side of the room and pulled out a bottle of lubrication. A quick one-two pump and Max were back in front of Daniel rubbing the clear liquid in hands.

Quick as a flash – Max’s hand slipped beneath Daniel’s waistband of his race suit and underwear; Daniel felt his slick hot hand gently grasp his pulsating member.

“Fuck” Daniel gasped as he felt slow deliberate strokes- the heat in room-his body skyrocketed, his head falling forward onto Max’s shoulder.  He felt Max push his body against his, his free hand pressed above his head holding him against the door.  Their breathing had synced – slightly ragged and raw – each urging.

Max’s strokes increased with intensity; Daniel wrapped his arms around the younger needing help to hold steady as he was unravelling in his hand. The slick strides were nearing their completion -faster  “Shit Max, I need to..” Max strokes increased “Max, uh please Max I am gonna”

Daniel felt his insides coil and then explode in the heated explosion “Max, yes” he exhaled almost blinded, tears peaking slightly at the corner of his yes- he felt grateful.

Daniel in his haze wanted to show his gratitude, he knew Max would never demand a return but he needed to do this.

Daniel feverishly grabbed the zip of the Max’s race suit and in a fluid motion and dragged it down encouraging Max’ to shake out of his suit.  He fell to his knees in front of him – almost missing the hand that was just wrapped around him.

Max watched and Daniel pulled down his trousers and boxers, his length springing up – Daniel listened as Max’s let out muffled breath as he grasped the member. Daniel pumped slowly, base to tip, the pad his thumb swiping over the slit. “Ahh” he heard Max breath out as pre-cum slowly slicked up his cock.

Daniel lowered his mouth to Max’s shaft, flicking his tongue around the tip as before beginning to bob his head- and just like that the noise in head had disappeared.

The air whilst hot and heavy was just that, he didn’t feel stifled, he wanted to please the man who had worked hard to remind him to forget the noise.

Daniel ran his tongue up the length of the engorged member in front him, he felt fingers running through his hair and grasp tightly.  Daniel felt the pleasure ripping through his body at the motion, Max’s hips began pulsating as he began bobbing up and down his length – “Danny, fuck yes, take it”

Max snapped his hips back and forth as the wet heat surround his dick – Daniel could hear Max breather harder, the slick member reaching the back his throat which he knew gave Max intense pleasure.

“I am going to cum” Max panted as Daniel flicked his wrist as he bobbed up and down “Danny, I am going cum so fucking hard” Daniel felt the hand on the back of head press him tight against the younger as he held him there. Max groaning in pleasure as he sent ribbons of fluid shooting in Daniel’s mouth. “I forgot how fucking good you are that” Max panted.

Daniel sat back on his knees and collected himself for second. The room was quiet again, the noise from the garage still muted behind the walls. His breathing slowed, the heat in his chest giving way to something more grounded.

It wasn’t awkward, it never was- just still. The kind of quiet that came after a storm.

Daniel finally let out a laugh, small and tired “guess I owe you an apology for the whole yelling thing.”

“Max tilted his head slightly, visor still down “You already said enough.”

There wasn’t much to add. The weight that had sat heavy in Daniel’s chest since practice was gone, replaced by an easy ache that somehow felt like relief. He pushed himself up, running a hand through his hair.

“See you out there,” he said quietly, hand already on the door.

Max gave a short nod “You will.”

The hum of the paddock met him as he stepped out-bright light, voices, the smell of fuel and heat. For the first time that day, Daniel felt his heartbeat steady in time with the world outside. Whatever that moment had been, it had done its job.