#which is bizarre

Max has been on the sim for hours, punching out lap after lap at Spa, trying to carve his time down.

His doorbell rings.

"Fucking shit," he says without taking his eyes off the screen, where he kisses the apex into the final corner. He hasn't ordered food or anything today. If it's so important, he'll get a phone call or a text. Not that many people know his address anyway.

The doorbell doesn't ring again. He starts another hot lap.

Several minutes later, or some indeterminate time, Max startles back into himself when there's a knock directly behind him. He turns around.

"Sim, huh," Daniel says, leaning against the doorway to the sim room. He's backlit by the light from the hallway, his spare key dangling from one hand.

"Yes," Max says. His voice is hoarse; he clears his throat. "You know how it is."

"It's summer fucking break," Daniel says, coming into the room. He sounds tired. Is he getting enough sleep? "Barely a week into summer break."

"Okay," Max says, flexing his fingers on the wheel. "The championship is at stake, so."

"I know, Max."

Max hates when Daniel sounds like this: disappointed, worried. And it's a hundred times worse when it's aimed at Max, like Max is a little kid still.

"Come on, Maxy," Daniel says after a moment. "Let's get something to eat, yeah?"

When Max stands up he feels a shocky wave of exhaustion, and Daniel's hand is suddenly a warm weight against his lower back.

"I had groceries delivered yesterday," he says. He doesn't want Daniel to think he's completely incompetent. He wants to sink into Daniel completely and melt into nothing. He wants to win the championship.

"I know," Daniel is saying. "I already made lunch."

Max searches himself for annoyance, irritation, and can't find any. He shrugs, and Daniel takes his hand away from Max's lower back, leaving him bereft. "Okay."

The kittens are in the living room in their little play area, wrestling with each other.

"I have to lock them out of the sim," Max says. "Otherwise they run all around. I'm scared I'll step on one braking into a corner."

"They're cute," Daniel says, and Max feels a weird and unfounded flush of pride. Daniel's gotten a haircut recently, he thinks. He's even tanner than usual, too, the back of his neck warmly brown above the orange collar of his t-shirt.

He wasn't lying about making lunch: there are two plates on the kitchen counter, what looks like tofu wraps and a little salad. When Max reaches for the nearest plate, Daniel says, "That one's mine," swatting Max's hand away. "Yours has more stuff in the wrap. You're too skinny."

"Fuck off," Max says, smiling. It's humiliating, how the smallest, most casual touch from Daniel makes Max feel like -- makes Max feel.

They sit on the couch at opposite ends. Daniel stretches, winces.

"Are you okay?" Max asks. He's already done with his salad and starting on the wrap. He was hungrier than he realized. He can't remember if he had breakfast this morning.

Daniel smiles at him, although his eyes don't crinkle up as much as normal. "Just old age, Max."

Max rolls his eyes. Then something occurs to him for the first time. "Why did you come over?"

"You weren't answering my texts," Daniel says. His eyes are down on his plate as he composes a bite of salad.

"Oh." Max's phone is probably -- he doesn't fucking know. In the unmade bed, or on the counter or something. Maybe the kittens ate it. "Yeah, I didn't see."

"I know," Daniel says. "It's okay."

Max didn't apologize for anything. He sets his empty plate on the coffee table and one of the kittens, Sassy, suddenly launches herself onto his lap. She digs her claws through his shorts and into his skin, tries to bite him.

"Hey!" Max says. He scoops her up gently, holds her in front of his face so she has to look at him. "Don't do that. Be nice. Here." He picks up one of the cat toys from the floor, a little round mouse that jingles when it gets rolled around. He tosses it across the floor and Sassy jumps down, flying after it.

"You're a good cat dad," Daniel says. "Remind me their names?"

"This one's Sassy," Max says, pointing at her as she chases her little round mouse ball. "The lazy one asleep is Jimmy."

"Sassy and Jimmy," Daniel repeats. He gets down on the floor, sits with his legs out in front of him, and snaps his fingers for Sassy. She jumps onto him and he distracts her with the mouse ball, running it over his own legs so she scrambles all over him. He's laughing, delighted.