bianca

chapter 1/7, gax, rated m, world cup au. first f1 fic posted pls enjoy!!

Under the bar’s sweeping, fluorescent lights, Max ribbed the two Australians, trash talking their team, before they turned on him and his ugly orange jerseys, Jesus, mate, they couldn’t pick a better color? “I thought you liked orange,” Max directed to Oscar. Like the rest of the world, he’d seen that clip of Lando and Oscar talking incessantly about orange that Arsenal had posted last week. “Mate, there’s orange and there’s whatever they’ve got you wearing on the pitch,” Oscar shot back. His cheeks were a bit pink, though. Alex burst in then, mocking Max over his jerseys, before Max started handing it back, until they were all arguing over whose team would win the World Cup. They could agree on one thing at least: it was sure as fuck not coming home. Max loudly proclaimed as much to the whole bar, head fizzy and lips loose from his gin and tonic. “Fuck England, obviously,” he added. “Excuse me?” an unfortunately familiar posh voice said.

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