If I'm bein' honest when you look at me
It's like kissin' a million angels
And every tattoo's so intoxicating
From your neck and right down to your ankles
Max knows that they should be asleep. He can hear his father’s voice in his head, telling him that he needs to get at least 8 hours of sleep or he’ll be drowsy for the race and won’t compete as well. But Max has already won the championship and locked down the constructors so it doesn’t matter as much. Besides, it’s the last race of the season, he can break some of his rules.
It’s also Daniel’s last race, maybe ever. And that’s enough to keep Max wide awake. Maybe if he never falls asleep, the day won’t come.
And Daniel is looking at him, dark eyes soft and sweet and it’s so so much. Max can’t breathe when Daniel looks at him like that. So instead, he doesn’t meet Daniel’s gaze, letting his eyes and fingers trace over Daniel’s tattoos instead.
Daniel has the hotel blanket rucked up around his body, but he’s rolled over to face Max, leaving his one leg exposed. It’s easier to focus on the muscles in Daniel’s thighs, the way the black ink decorates his skin than to think about what all of this means.
Because even though when he thinks of Daniel, his heart beats faster, and he feels things he thinks most people would describe as love, he’s not really sure where they stand. Especially if Daniel isn’t going to be on the race track anymore.
Fifteen and sixteen, I had to be strong
Twenty-two, I'm still scared of it all
'Cause I know one day I could wake up and you'll be gone
As he traces Daniel’s thigh, he thinks about when they met. Max had never been the most popular kid growing up, all of his focus going toward racing and training and beating everyone else. It didn’t make him very many friends. At Toro Rosso, Carlos was always nice to him, offering to take Max for dinner or inviting him to workouts. But Max still felt like he was on the outs there. No one likes being the second driver, no matter what Carlos claimed.
But then he moved up to Red Bull and met Daniel and it was the first time he’d ever felt normal or liked by anyone he’d ever raced with. Daniel was more than a teammate, he was more than a friend. Max thought he hung the stars. And he never really stopped thinking that.
But the question that always circled his brain, poking him at the worst times: does Daniel feel the same?
And I'll just be lonely, missin'
Holdin' your hand when we're half asleep
Lonely, wishin' we never kissed in your backseat
And that's what scares me the most
Knowin' that you could just let me go
And I'll just be lonely, missin'
Holdin' your hand when we're half asleep
And that’s what’s scary to Max. Feeling this way about someone, much less about Daniel Fucking Ricciardo, one of the only people who’s ever seen Max for who he actually is is terrifying.
He moves his hands from Daniel’s thigh, grabbing his large hand instead, playing with his fingers, tracing over the number 3 etched in Daniel’s skin.
Sometimes Max wishes he’d never made a move. They were in Monaco, Daniel not going back to Australia over the short break, leaving them both some time to see each other off of the track. Michael was there too, which Max didn’t mind. Michael was nice to him, sometimes he invited Max to their training sessions.
Where they were going, Max can’t remember anymore. All he knows is that Daniel’s hand was on his thigh, both of them slightly tipsy from the wine at dinner. He knows that Daniel had smiled at him, and saw Daniel’s eyes flick to Max’s lips. And that was all it had taken. Max had climbed onto Daniel’s lap, catching a surprised but not disappointed look flash across Daniel’s eyes. He’d pressed their lips together, hard and uncoordinated. But Daniel, like in every other situation Max had ever experienced with him, had taken control, slowing them down, gripping Max’s hips to calm him slightly.
Max doesn’t regret it often, only at times like this, where uncertainty hangs in the air between them. When he’s forced to think about what it might be like when Daniel isn’t in the paddock anymore, when they don’t have hotel room beds to share. And he wonders if the loneliness he’s destined to feel next year will be worth feeling to have had Daniel for a few years.
Getting kinda tired of turnin' pages
I hopе you're not the type to pull thе same shit
'Cause you could be like everyone I've dated
They don't love me, they just want to see me naked
Daniel can tell that Max is on edge. He’s never the best at talking about his feelings, leaving Daniel guessing. And all Daniel can think is that Max is trying to figure out how to end this, even though this had never really been defined.
And Daniel had thought, or rather hoped, that Max would be different. That Max maybe liked him for him, not for his racing skills or his smile or his body. He was used to people getting tired of him after a while, pushing him aside for someone more exciting or more talented, or more serious.
With Max, it had always been different. Max was a different person with Daniel, a better person. With Daniel, racing mattered less. Even when Daniel had left Red Bull, even when he’d started to drop in the standings, winning less and finishing out of the points more, Max hadn’t changed. He still believed that Daniel was a good driver and he’d always told Daniel that he was deserving of the best things in the world.
But now, Daniel can only wait for the other shoe to drop. He’s out and Max is the world champion for the second time and it’s only a matter of time before Max decides that he can do better than Daniel.
Fifteen and sixteen, I had to be strong
Twenty-two, I'm still scared of it all
'Cause I know one day I could wake up and you'll be gone
Max traces patterns on Daniel’s thigh and Daniel thinks. He thinks about moving to Europe as a kid, knowing no one. He thinks about the way that he learned how to win people over, he thinks about lying awake in a foreign city, wondering if it’ll all be worth it.
He thinks about choosing to leave Red Bull, remembers the tears in Max’s eyes when he’d told him. He thinks about how he thought it would be over then, that Max would cut all ties with him, devotion to Red Bull reigning over everything.
And he thinks about how Max didn’t. How Max treated him the same way he’d always had. He thinks about how he doesn’t know what he would do if Max stopped thinking of him like that.
And I'll just be lonely, missin'
Holdin' your hand when we're half asleep
Lonely, wishin' we never kissed in your backseat
And that's what scares me the most
Knowin' that you could just let me go
And I'll just be lonely, missin'
Holding your hand when we're half asleep
He thinks about their first kiss, in the backseat of Daniel’s Renault, Michael driving them from dinner to a bar, the short break allowing them time to enjoy each other’s company. Daniel had been pleasantly surprised when Max had spent most of that break with him and not with Lando or another driver. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the moment that Max kissed him, shuffling over the armrest to crawl into Daniel’s lap. It was messy, too eager, and Daniel remembers thinking that it was the best kiss he’d ever had. He remembers gripping Max’s hips to settle the younger man, taking control to slow it down, savour it, remember it.
And then they’d just never stopped, Daniel too scared to define it. But now, laying here next to Max, one race left for Daniel (maybe ever), he wishes he could go back to that day. Wishes he would have made Max his right there and then. Wishes he’d ever had the courage to do it.
But instead, he’s here, worrying about the impending end, feeling Max’s deft hands tracing the number three on his finger over and over again.
If I'm bein' honest when you look at me
It's like kissin' a million angels
And every tattoo's so intoxicating
From your neck and right down to your ankles
But that's what scares me the most
It'll tear me apart when you go
Max feels Daniel clutch his hand and he reluctantly lets his eyes meet Daniel’s. There’s so much emotion there, and anyone other than Max might not know what Daniel is feeling, what he can’t say.
But Max does. He knows Daniel more than anyone. He knows that he has to do something here, knows Daniel is feeling small and down this season. If anyone is going to do something, it’s going to be Max.
He steels himself, letting himself clutch Daniel’s hand once more, letting himself look at Daniel one more time, letting himself remember what it feels like to love and be loved by Daniel.
And then he sits up, pulls Daniel’s head into his lap, runs his hands through Daniel’s curls, and says,
“Daniel, we need to talk.”
Read on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43181628
