well this spiraled....

the first time max coughs flowers is, ironically, in austria.

it's only a few petals at first, flung out of max onto his hotel room's duvet, golden and shining in the sunlight. max watches them for a second, torn between confusion and mild horror. coughing up flowers has only been a myth in max's mind. something people tell stories about, something fantastical to create the sense of urgency in dramatic love stories.

he's never ever thought it would be real. and yet here he is, gold petals spread on his lap like evidence in a crime scene.

it doesn't get better after that.

max keep coughing up petals throughout the weekend, doing his damndest to keep it away from any pesky journalists, and glaring whenever he has to endure the team's pitying looks.

he coughs three full flowers after the race, their petals tainted with speckles of blood.

by the time he flies back to monaco, he's coughing so many flowers he could make a bouquet with them. nobody else outside of the team knows about this, or about how much weight max lost in between panic attacks and coughing fits.

nobody else but max knows what the flowers actually mean.

nobody else knows the fits are worse after calling daniel. or texting him. or thinking about him.

max gets woken up early on his supposed day off. he coughs so much he ends up throwing up afterwards, barely managing to make it to the bathroom in time. he throws away the flowers, balls up the bloody bed sheets and throws them in the washing machine before curling up on the sofa, a soft blanket wrapped around his shoulders as he tries to catch up on some sleep.

the next time he wakes up, it's to the sound of keys turning in the lock.

he scrambles back up, trying to make himself seem somewhat presentable while wondering who the fuck has come to see him. the list of suspects is, unsurprisingly, short and honestly, max should've guessed daniel would be the one to come see him.

he's the reason max is in this mess in the first place, after all.

daniel barges in the apartment like he owns it, and max has to suppress a cough at the sight, unwilling to give him even a glimpse of how unwell he's feeling. of course, daniel being daniel, he immediately pulls him in a hug, whispering a soft 'missed you' in the crook of max's neck.

max bites back another cough, the metallic taste of blood coating the inside of his mouth.

"are you okay?" daniel asks when he pulls away, frowning. "you look like a ghost, maxy."

max tries to smile, even when the movement feels horribly foreign on his face.

"i am of course all right, daniel. it's probably just my system getting all confused now that i have a break between races. you know how it is."

he regrets saying that as soon as the words leave his mouth, and seeing daniel wince at his words just makes the guilt in his gut heavier.

"max," daniel reaches out, cupping both of max's cheeks in his. he looks even more concerned now, lips pressed flat and tone unusually firm even when his hands are gentle. "don't lie to me, you've been like this for the last two races at least. you're shaking, you're pale, you've lost weight, and there's blood on your lip. tell me what's wrong, please?"

max had forgotten how it feels like, to have someone know you so deeply, so intimately, like he and daniel know each other. he had forgotten how much daniel cares, how kind he is, indulging in max's silliness even when he has absolutely no obligation to do so.

and just as he opens his mouth to try and fumble his way through an explanation, he gets cut off by a coughing fit, blood and golden petals splattering all over the front of daniel's white shirt.

daniel waits until it's over before taking off his shirt, using it to wipe max's mouth and chin clean before throwing it away. he helps max sit down on the couch and brings him a cup of water before settling down next to him.

"since when has this been going on, maxy?"

max shrugs, burrowing in the couch, and rasps out, "since austria."

"fuck, maxy," daniel pulls him in a hug, and, for once, max allows himself to sink in its warmth. "why didn't you tell me?"

max bites back a bitter laugh.

how do you tell the man you've been in love with for a decade that he's the reason you're slowly dying?

"what was i supposed to say? just, hey mate, i'm kinda dying here, can't wait to see you again?"

daniel pulls away, staring at max's face, seemingly looking for something while max mourns the loss of his embrace. max looks away, the silence stretching out awkwardly, and he has just enough time to pick a tissue before he's coughing his lungs out into it again. daniel rubs his back throughout the fit, whispering soft reassurances even if he's unknowingly the reason why it's slowly getting worse.

and then, as he's once again wiping blood off of max's chin, daniel leans down to press a peck to his lips, catching him completely off guard.

"wha-" max raises a hand to his lips, stunned. "why did you- daniel, why did you do that?"

It’s 3 months until he turns 40 and Daniel finds himself doomscrolling. But instead of mindless reels, it’s his simply his own feed.

He’s archived about 15 of his own posts, followed two new people and unfollowed about 7.

He hearts a photo his sister posted and comments with a cringing and a laughing emoji.

He pauses at the birth announcement of Scotty’s second child. A pang of, something, hits him deep in his chest.

He’s halfway through writing a congratulatory message, when his phone vibrates and a message notification pops up.

Daniel frowns in confusion.

Do you think you will ever want to live in to Monaco again?

The random questions from Max have not stopped, albeit in between normal conversations. In fact, Daniel thinks he and Max have been speaking more regularly and feel closer now than at any point in his F1 career, which is saying something.

Um… maybe. You offering to house me? 🤣Probably the only way I could afford it now!

Yes, of course

Thanks Maxy! 🤣🤣🤣

I would be a pretty shitty husband if I did not want you to live with me?

Daniel freezes.

What the fuck?

He’s hitting call on his phone before he can properly think it through.

“Daniel?” Max answers almost immediately.

“Er, husband? Maxy?” Daniel laughs nervously.

“Okay, fiancé if you want to be exact. I am wanting to work out the logistics for after.” Max says, and he sounds serious.

“After what?” Daniel asks cautiously.

“The wedding. Daniel, are you okay?” Max sounds concerned, and Daniel thinks that he should be. “I could, of course, move to Australia but Raymond says that it is best that you move here for tax purposes.” Daniel can hear Max frowning through the phone.

babe

babe

why the hell is everyone on fire (quite literally) what is going on

arvid's hand drawn helmet for silvo gp ❤️