raine

Max happens across the particular character trait of “Terrible Chef” after his first race with Red Bull. They are in Daniel’s hotel room, because Christian told Daniel he had to watch after Max and “make sure he doesn’t get shit-faced, for fuck’s sake, he’s barely 18.”

Max does not think this is fair. He has already been 18 for months.

Daniel does not seem to this is fair either, because he has been sprawled out face-down on the only bed and grumbling to himself for the entire time they've been alone. Max is standing at the side of the bed, in case Daniel starts to suffocate.

Daniel has not suffocated for half an hour. Max does not know if this is impressive or not.

His stomach grumbles. Max hasn't had anything to eat since before the race. It's been eight hours, and the hotel minifridge doesn't come pre-stocked.

Against his better judgement, he pokes at Daniel’s shoulder. “Daniel,” he prods, feeling self-conscious. “Daniel.”

Daniel makes a sound that probably indicates annoyance. “What do you want,” comes out irritated and muffled by the pillows. Daniel's Australian accent further muddles the words, so it becomes more, "Waddya wah," and Max makes an educated guess from there.

Max shoves against his shoulder lightly. “Can you please—can you get up?”

A brief pause, as if Daniel is considering it. Then, “No.”

“Daniel, if you suffocate, Christian will yell at me.”

That gets him to lift his head, expression twisted into something that looks both incredulous and annoyed. “Christian would not yell at you,” he says, sounding offended. “Christian would yell at me for suffocating in front of you. Christian doesn't have a bone in his body capable of yelling at you.” He sounds very angry about it, which Max does not get.

"I do not think I understand."

Daniel looks impossibly angrier. "Don't play dumb with me," he grits out. "That was my win"

Max tilts his head. You should have driven faster, then, he wants to say.

"I am sorry," he says instead, as sincerely as he can, because Daniel is his best chance at dinner for atleast a few meters. He is not sorry in the slightest. He doesn't understand why Daniel cannot accept that Max is sometimes the favorite, and that if Daniel were as good as Max is, maybe Christian would like him more.

Daniel narrows his eyes. "Bullshit." Then, he drops his head back into the pillow and continues not suffocating.

Max shoves at him again, harder this time. "Daniel, you are being unfair. Get up."

Nothing.

He tries again, practically trying to roll him over. His teammate is decently heavy, though, so Max is really only able to shove him around and wrinkle the sheets. "Daniel," he says. "Daniel, come on. Make me dinner, or something, at least."

“Oh my god, mate,” Daniel groans. “If I do, will you leave me alone?”

Max considers the idea. “Yes,” he concedes. Daniel rolls out of bed so quickly, he's almost offended.

"What do you want?" He says, pulling on his socks. Max shrugs. He has no idea what Daniel can cook. "Okay, instant ramen, then."

Max is about to ask if Daniel is going to the convenience store, when the Australian opens his suitcase to reveal a wrinkled suit, three pairs of underwear, a retainer case, and two packets of instant noodles.