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sebastian vettel crashing into mark webber (for whom this could've been a potential first podium). and mark crashing out on the radio "it's always fucking kids isn't it. kids with no experience. you do a good job and they fuck it all up."
seb sobbing in the pitlane.
mark webber later calling this "the first time they made love on the track."
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this doesnt just go for lesbians it goes for bi women and straight women too. i cant even count how many times straight women have told me “i wish i was a lesbian so i didnt have to date men” but guess what … u Dont have to date men
to be clear this also isnt necessarily saying ‘go date women instead!!’ its just saying…. u dont have to date men. u dont have to be dating women in order to not date men! in fact if ur not attracted to women at all please dont date women just as a substitute for men. but if dating men isnt making u happy… u dont have to do that. u dont have to make a space in ur life for men
but maybe no. 47? reminds of the time a few of the drivers were stuck in a lift together but this time it’s just them
maxiel - stuck in a lift
Max’s sweat smells the same.
It’s something Daniel only notices after they’ve been sealed in the elevator for a half hour, like fruit ripening and softening in tupperware. He smells like five years ago. He smells like meetings in stuffy rooms, like podiums, like that time on his couch when Daniel unzipped his fly and took his dick out of the slit of his boxer briefs because he thought it would be less gay if he didn’t see Max’s balls.
He wants to say, “Remember how I jerked you off half a decade ago and we didn’t talk about it until now?” or “Hey, funny story. Every time I see a new dick, I compare it to yours.”
Maybe it’s cabin fever. Lift fever.
Max speaks before Daniel can say something psycho, thank fuck. He says, “It is very nice having you around again, Daniel. It makes me happy, you know? Just to know that I might run into you in the paddock. To know that you’re in your car behind me.”
Daniel laughs. “Or in front of you, before you lap me.”
Max grins too. “Everything is nicer, knowing you are there, that you are close.”
“Aww, shucks.” Daniel taps his shoe against Max’s bare foot. Max has stripped down to just his boxer briefs. They’re the same kind as that time they don’t talk about. He’s sprawled with his back against the wall of the elevator, thighs open. It’s probably what’s making Daniel psycho, even more than the being trapped thing.
Like, not just cabin fever. He’s got thigh fever.
He’s keeping all his clothes on.
Max laughs at the footsie game, traps Daniel’s shoe between his feet. When Daniel tries to wiggle out of it, his foot slips out of the shoe and his sweaty no-show sock rolls down.
His feet probably smell disgusting. It’s really hot in here and he’s been on his feet all day. Maybe his foot funk will cover up the smell of Max’s sweat and then he’ll stop thinking about shit he shouldn’t be thinking about.
Max presses his foot into Daniel’s, curls his toes around the tips of Daniel’s toes.
Daniel laughs. “Freak.”
Max laughs too. He fiddles with the metal bracelet he’s always wearing.
“A gift from the missus?” Daniel asks, stupid. He thought saying it would be better than saying her name, but it turns out it’s worse because then he’s picturing Max marrying Kelly.
Max grins, crinkly-eyed. Ouch. “Yeah. You know she tried to give me this crazy one with all these gem things? It was too much.”
“Ha,” Daniel says weakly. Since he’s got cabin/lift/thigh fever anyway, he goes for it. It’s part of his dumbass resolution to be more authentic or whatever. To tell someone on the grid. He figures the guy who jizzed all over his fist in 2018 is a safe enough bet. He says, “Yeah, like. I’m kinda seeing this guy who did some modeling for the clothing line, yeah? And he must have taken one of these beaded Enchanté bracelets we have, cause he was, like, wearing it when I came over? And it was hot. So. Like, I get it. She wants to give you the old razzle dazzle, Max. You should let her.”
Max’s jaw has dropped open. He looks, like. He looks gobsmacked.
Fuck.
When the first and then-only guy Daniel had ever kissed came out as gay in 2008, Daniel felt fucking ill. Like Tyler had made the entire no homo incident homo as fuck. He deleted every picture containing Tyler off his digital camera and removed him as a Facebook friend.
Maybe that’s what’s happening to Max right now. Maybe Daniel is homoing their no homo.
“I’m bi?” Daniel says, rushed and insane and like it’s a fucking question.
Max’s lips finally shut, but they go taut and hard, angry.
“I sleep with women still,” Daniel adds, desperate to salvage this. “Don’t love pussy any less, hey. Gigigigi!”
He’s lost his fucking mind.
Daniel thinks about how they play elevator security cam footage on those fucked up true crime documentaries. Victims always seem to take an elevator 20 minutes before their untimely demise. If Daniel dies from this, they’re gonna play elevator footage of him talking about being bi and loving pussy.
Max takes out his phone again, gets up and paces around the small space, climbs up on the rail and lifts it up high.
It’s useless. No service.
Not a super reassuring sign that his bisexual confession was met with Max doubling his escape efforts, hey.
After a while, Max thrusts his phone under Daniel’s nose. “This is him?”
Daniel takes the phone. It’s a screenshot of the Enchante website.
“What–you got service?” Daniel laughs, giddy. “Oh my god, use it to call someone, you maniac.”
“No, I. These are just in my texts with Victoria. I was asking to her which one would look better on me.” Max frowns. “You don’t send out the ones this fucking guy wore, do you? To customers?”
Daniel wrinkles his nose. “Max, I wouldn’t ship off sloppy second clothing. What kind of business do you think I’m running?” He crosses his arms. “You know you can’t, like, catch gayness, Max. Jesus. Don’t be a fucking asshole.”
Max’s face goes flat. His eyes are still mad, though. He says, “What.”
“Did you really buy something?”
Max’s never worn it around him, not like Lando or George. Probably for the best, so he won’t be tied to Daniel’s gay brand or whatever the fuck he thinks.
Max’s face flushes deep red. “It must be so surprising to you that people who look regular can wear your clothes as well, Daniel. That we are not all models, like these people you are dating.”
Daniel doesn’t know what his face is doing, but it’s something strange that hopefully conveys, what the fucking fuck?
Max scoffs.
Daniel says, “Well, this fucking sucked.”
Max bangs on the elevator door like they were doing a half hour ago. He tries to pry it open with his bare hands. He shouts, “Hellooooooooo!”
Daniel says, “First person I come out to outside my inner circle and he’s a fucking homophobe.”
Max whips back around, face shocked and hurt. “I am not in your inner circle?”
“That’s the part you’re worried about? I’d think you’d be, like, grateful to be in an outer ring of my gay ass solar system, Max.”
“I’m not a homophobe,” Max waves a hand through the air in sweeping motions like he’s physically dismissing the thought.
“Sure, Max.”
“Does he even know about racing, this guy?” Max says guy like other people would say bacterial infection.
“Bisexual people can enjoy racing, Max. Fucking case in point.” Daniel gestures to himself in tight, snappy motions.
“Obviously. What do you anyway have in common with him, Daniel?”
“Well, we both like dick, for one.”
Max starts throwing his clothes back on even though the elevator is like 40 fucking degrees. He’s Jolly Rancher red.
“Wow, Max. Wow. You don’t have to worry about me perving on your body, Jesus. Don’t worry, you’re not my type.” It’s Daniel’s turn to pound his fist into the elevator door and holler his vocal chords out.
When he turns back around, Max looks fucking devastated. He’s pressing his lips together so hard they’re white, but they’re still wobbling a little.
“Uh, Max? What–huh?”
“Fuck you.”
Daniel’s eyes feel tarsier-wide. “Huh?”
The elevator kicks back on in one lurching movement that feels like Daniel’s stomach right about now. It travels for a few seconds and then the doors open up to an empty hallway. Max takes off.
Daniel steps the fuck out of the elevator. He realizes too late that his shoe and sock are still inside, but he ain’t goin back in.
He goes to check if he has service, but he’s not holding his own phone. It’s Max’s, still. And it’s still open to that Enchanté screenshot, maybe because Daniel’s thumb has been trembling and smearing across the screen this whole time.
He swipes the screenshot away. The message thread with Victoria comes up.
He shouldn’t read it. He wouldn’t, but, like. It’s about his clothes. And he sees his name.
He has to copy the messages into a translator which makes the whole thing about 50 times more creepy and violating.
Daniel does it anyway.
From: Victoria
Are you for real
You’re so embarrassing
From: Max
It’s not weird. Lando and George have things
From: Victoria
They’re not in love with the company’s founder who gay-panic ghosted them and broke their hearts 5 years ago
Well probably
I don’t really know their love lives
And I don’t care please don’t tell me
Daniel's fingers shake and he can’t bring himself to translate what Max says back. Cause like. It’s gonna be a denial. It’s gonna reveal that the whole thing is a joke. That Max isn’t in love with Daniel. That that’s just as fucking crazy and untrue as it sounds.
He types each Dutch word into his own phone one by one, doesn’t want evidence of him, like, texting it to his own phone like the snoopy stalker deviant he is. He plucks the letters into his phone with one pointer and continuously touches Max’s screen with the other pointer so it doesn’t lock him out before he knows.
He leaves with one shoe and one bare foot.
It’s not until he’s back in his hotel room that he finally works up the courage to paste the words into Google translate. He does it and snaps his eyes shut. His hand shakes.
Here it comes. It’s gonna say, of course I don’t love him or haha very funny or yes we have 4 little babies together that is why I need the clothes for them.
Daniel’s ready.
He opens his eyes.
From: Max
So should I get the green
thanks to @lights-out-go for looking this over and being so nice about it 🥹❤️
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Watching Baku 2017 aka the race where Sebastian Vettel hit Lewis Hamilton on purpose in a fit of pique and look who I was surprised to see! It's baby GB3 George!
Flash forward 8 years and he's no longer watching a mercedes get hit on purpose by a 4x red bull world champion he gets to BE the car getting hit 🥰
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"we have a ten-second stop-and-go penalty for dangerous driving" "when did i do dangerous driving" one day i hope to be as delusional as seb vettel in baku 2017
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