#oscbbonso

Flying Family ✈️🥰

What in the red string theory is this?

Oscar trying to learn how ride that bike (even though he kinda doesn't know and scared) , because clearly his parent lovesss that.

Mark oh Mark I knew you'd make the boy like two wheelers 🥹

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2021

“What the fuck, Alonso?”

The tall man slammed the door shut behind him, voice cutting through the quiet room.

“Good to see you too, Mark,” Fernando replied, forcing a small smile.

“Cut the crap, mate. Tell me why the hell you did this.”

Mark’s voice echoed sharp, angry, personal.

“Do what?” Fernando asked, now standing face-to-face with the Aussie.

Mark let out a bitter laugh. “Right. I really thought we were past the phase where you play games with me, Fonz.” That nickname once affectionate now sounded like an accusation.

“Is no game, Mark,” Fernando said with a shrug.

“Don’t bullshit me. You knew I was fighting for a seat for Oscar. He’s a new kid, with so much talent. I had everything lined up, years in the making, and then you come back out of nowhere, use your connections with Flavio, and steal it.”

“I didn’t steal anything,” Fernando replied too casually for Mark’s liking.

“Yeah? Then what do you call it?” Mark snapped, arms crossed, fury radiating from him.

Fernando didn’t answer. He could tell Mark wasn’t here to listen. He was here to release.

“Fernando, I don’t give a fuck about your reasons,” Mark went on, voice rising. “But I’ll tell you this, I don’t mess around when it comes to Oscar’s career. What you did was straight-up sabotage. It was his chance, damn it. We had a plan. And then you show up , the selfish prick who always wants what he wants, never thinking about who gets crushed in the process.”

His words were fire, veins on his neck popping, his anger raw. Fernando stood still, letting it all hit him. He understood the emotion he was mentoring a rookie too. He’d have reacted the same way.

But silence only made Mark angrier. He wanted Fernando to fight back, to argue. Instead, Fernando just stood there, unflinching.

So Mark hit where it hurt.

“Isn’t that exactly why she left you too? Because Fernando Alonso knows nothing beyond F1. All those future plans , only empty promises, huh? God, mate, I don’t even know whether to laugh or feel sorry for you.”

The words landed like punches. He saw the flicker of pain in Fernando’s eyes and instantly regretted it. He’d crossed the line.

Mark’s expression softened slightly torn between wanting to hug him or shove him against the wall.

Fernando blinked, collecting himself, and finally said quietly, “We should have this conversation again when you’ve calmed down, Mark.”

The calmness only infuriated Mark further. “You’re unbelievable. The audacity to think I’d ever want to talk to you again! FUCK YOU”

“I’m sure you’ll do the honors,” Fernando interrupted lightly, that teasing tone returning just enough to sting.

Mark flipped him off and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Two months of silence followed.

Until one day, Fernando’s phone buzzed.

A message from Mark. No greeting, just a hotel address and a line:

“You better have a good excuse.”

Fernando smiled. That was them — they’d fight, burn, and somehow always find their way back to conversation. Their bond had weathered a decade of chaos because it rested on something stronger than pride: trust, and the quiet knowledge that neither could truly walk away.

Later

Fernando arrived at the hotel early, not wanting to provoke Mark further. It was one of their usual spots quiet, private. When Mark finally walked in, fifteen minutes late, Fernando could tell it was deliberate.

Mark sat opposite him, phone on the table, and looked up. Fernando met his gaze with that same gentle calm that always managed to disarm him.

“Let’s talk business straight,” Mark said, voice clipped, professional. Gone was the warmth, this was manager Mark, not his Mark.

Fernando exhaled and nodded. “Right.”

He slid his phone across the table.

“What’s this?” Mark frowned, picking it up. His eyes scanned the screen, a chat with Andrea Stella.

“You’re going back to McLaren? Jesus, Fonz. Why do you keep going back to your ex teams?”

The nickname slipped out before he could stop it.

“Pendejo. I’m not going back,” Fernando said, leaning back in his chair. “This is for Oscar.”

Mark froze, brows furrowed. “What? Wait — you talked to Stella? Why? How?”

Fernando let him stumble for a few seconds before explaining. “They’re planning to part ways with Ricciardo soon.”

Mark stared, still trying to connect the dots. Fernando went on, explaining how Andrea had confided in him, how McLaren wanted a young driver beside Lando. How he’d suggested Oscar, not as a favor, but because he deserved it.

Oscar was talented. He’d won F3 and F2. He didn’t deserve to be stuck as Alpine’s backup. And Fernando, despite everything, had no intention of blocking anyone’s rise especially Mark’s protégé.

He leaned forward. “Oscar’s your kid, Mark. That makes him mine too. I’d never hurt him. I only wanted to make sure he got a fair chance.”

Mark blinked, processing it all. “Seriously, Fonz?”

“Very much,” Fernando said, grinning faintly.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Mark said, shaking his head. “It’s my job to fight for him. I came to you months ago angry, yes, but not because I wanted you gone, just because it felt like you’d undone everything. And now this going behind my back to Stella, it makes me look like I can’t even manage my own driver. Like I don't know how to get things for him? What kind of manager I am then?”

ah well why did he think Mark will take this easy. He knew this was coming. He can sense another argument building up. He sipped water from the glass infront of him, he'd have preferred alcohol but this talk needed to be sober.

“Is not about you Mark” Fernando said softly. “Is about what’s right for him. Alpine’s a mess, why do you want that talented kid to start with this shitty team? And that too when Esteban is his teammate? See I am not trying to defend what I did but I knew what I was doing. Maybe it's gonna take a while for Oscar to get that seat but it'll be worth for him so much more than driving with alpine irrespective of if I was there or not. I wasn’t defending myself that day because I knew you were angry. I knew we could fix few things. That’s why I said we’d talk when you’d calmed down.”

He looked down, voice gentler now. “Mark, you matter to me, okay? You always have. I’d never do anything to hurt you. People think I’m the villain, I don’t care. But if you think that, that hurts. Well I have been bad guy in too many people's story and I honestly don't care but with you, I do and I always will. I am looking after this kid Gabi I know how tough it can get. I did nothing much just used my past contacts for good. I know you'd do that too. He's like my kid too Mark. I want to see many young drivers do good. It's only in my best interest. Even though I wanna race as long as possible but I won't be by eating up anyone deserving place. Even though I guess now just like everyone else you think that too... That I'll do that” Fernando ended that with sad laugh.

Mark didn’t hesitate. He reached across the table, covering Fernando’s hand with his. “Fonz. You know I don’t think that. You’re not a villain, mate.” He brushed his thumb lightly over back of spaniards hand. His voice had softened again, the anger fading.

Fernando looked at those hands. He didn’t look up, just shook his head. He didn’t want to show Mark his twinkling eyes he knew Mark would feel bad. This conversation wasn’t about them, not a reconciliation or anything of that sort. He wanted to pull his hand away, but he didn’t want Mark to feel like he didn’t want to be touched by him. That would’ve been cruel. So, he placed his other hand on top of Mark’s, patting it gently before finally pulling both his hands away.

They knew how to handle each other with gentleness, how not to make the other feel unwanted, even if over the years they’d quietly learned to keep their distance. Like when Fernando decided he was planning to have a family with his girlfriend, and when Mark, upon hearing that, thought, “Yeah? Okay, then I’ll get happily married too.”

They were equally messed up in their choices. Did they get what they thought they would by choosing different things? Fernando didn’t have a family , just another ex-girlfriend. and Mark wasn’t happily married. Or was he?

“Anyway,” Fernando cleared his throat, “talk to Andrea. I’ve done what I could. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but I wanted to.”

Mark was studying his face now. What even was this guy? He wasn’t a saint, never. He was full of flaws, cocky, perhaps even arrogant at times, but his heart was in the right place. He was selfish indeed, and there were moments when he couldn’t see beyond his own desires. But at the end of the day, he wasn’t a bad human being. Just complex but nothing that Mark couldn’t understand or accept.

Right now, though, with Oscar involved, he wasn’t in the right state to let all that love show. He didn’t want to stretch things either. It had been a long time since he’d felt even a hint of hope that they could be what they once were.

What were they, anyway? he thought, sighing.

“I appreciate it. But we’re not talking again until I see Oscar’s name on that McLaren contract.”

Fernando smirked. “Sure. That’ll be what... another year? I can wait.”

2022

“We’re happy to have Oscar,” Andrea said, genuinely smiling as Oscar signed the contract. Mark felt a weight lift off his shoulders. His boy finally had a seat. He should have celebrated that, and he would, but first, he knew exactly where he needed to be.

He booked the first flight to Monaco.

It was almost midnight when he arrived. It had been so long since he’d stepped into that building or pressed that familiar floor number. He rubbed his hands together, heart pounding in his chest. Was he taking the Spaniard for granted, assuming he’d be welcomed whenever he showed up? It had been a year since they last spoke. He remembered what he’d said, and he wasn’t sure how Fernando had taken it. But he’d seen it, the way Fernando’s expression stayed longing whenever they crossed paths in the Alpine garage. Oscar had even told him not to be upset with Fernando because of him.

All that misery ended tonight.

He rang the doorbell, standing tall in front of the door. When there was no answer, he rang it again. He silently prayed Fernando was alone. He didn’t know what he’d do if he wasn’t. He hadn’t even let himself think that far.

Mark, do you really think of him as your toy, someone you can just come back to whenever you please? he thought bitterly to himself.

His thoughts broke when he heard the door open.

The man standing there wore a hoodie and shorts, hair messy from sleep, rubbing a hand over his face. Oh, how much Mark had missed this man. He didn’t waste a second, he reached out, cupped Fernando’s face, and kissed him with all the love he’d been holding in.

It took Fernando a moment to process what was happening. For a second, he thought he was dreaming. The thought shattered when he felt those familiar hands on his face, that gentle stroke at the back of his neck. His posture relaxed; a soft “mhm” escaped him as he smiled into the kiss.

When they finally broke apart, breathless, Fernando’s lips curled into a small smile.

“Good to see you too, Mark,” he said lightly.

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Well Mark you got too many 'Good boys' in your house mate 😂😂😂