- It's 2024. Daniel is back in the grid, his hand is completely healed, his curls are thriving. He feels confident again and he's happy. He's in a low dose of antidepressants and the therapy does wonders. 2022 seems really far away.
- He's starting the season in a good mood, flirting his way through the paddock, joking with the Netflix boys. It's Thursday and they're in Australia. Australia, baby, his favourite place in the world. His family is coming to see him race, Isaac being old enough to really enjoy being in the garage. He's curious and funny and Daniel misses him a lot when he's away. He loves Isabella too, she's his princess. But she's not really interested in the sport (yet) and she's in a hardcore Bluey phase. So Isaac asks him if he can go with him to the garage and when they're there, he asks if they can go visit the Red Bull garage because he's obsessed with the RB and to be honest, with Max too. Just like his uncle, Blake likes to say. Usually that makes Daniel to show his karate moves but not for long because Blake is a scary motherfucker sometimes even if he hides it well.
- So to the RB garage they go. They chat with Christian for a bit (Do you want to run for us when you're big, Isaac?, he asks) (And Isaac says yes, yes, yes) and they dodge Helmut when he appears in the garage because he's scary and not in a nice way. (Isaac says he smells like moths and Daniel has to fight really hard not to laugh) and then they spot Max. He's talking with GP but when he sees them, he waves smiling and he talks with Isaac like he's an adult (and even invites him to look into the car and explains to him everything, twice when Isaac asks again about some things).
- And yeah, Daniel has feelings. Like, he knows he had feelings for Max since... Well, a long time ago. He knows but he was scared of being bisexual (thanks Josh Allen for fixing that) and older than Max, and he was scared of being reciprocal because yeah, like Max was his teammate? His hot, younger, faster teammate.
- But now Daniel is (even) older and has learnt to not give a fuck about what people thinks. And yeah, watching Max with his niece? It's doing things to Daniel's heart.
- So yeah, Australia is awesome, racing in Australia is even better, getting points in Australia is a dream come true after these past years. He's high on endorphins and that's his excuse to intercept Max when he's on his way to his driver room after the podium. (Hey, hi, Maxy, Maximus, I was thinking, like, congrats in the podium, by the way, good trophy and all that, but I was thinking of asking you if you wanted to come to Perth?)
- The craziest thing to happen is that Max says yes. No doubts at all, just his big smile that makes his eyes go small and a 'yes, Daniel'.
- PERTH. It goes like this: Max comes to the farm, falls in love with Daniel's house, Daniel's falls in love a bit more with him. And Max knows nothing about it because Daniel is a bit immature but he's not stupid (not about this anyway) and Max is one of his best friends and he doesn't want to ruin their friendship.
- So he says nothing and he enjoys having this week with Max in his home. They race dirt bikes, they cook together (well, they try) and they play with Isaac and Isabella when they come to visit. And then it's Sunday, a whole week has passed and they're going to fly together soon to Japan. They're enjoying the hot tub after having a nice dinner and Max is laughing at Daniel's impression of Toto and Daniel feels like his chest is filled with helium, feels high, lucky, funny. And that's his excuse to kiss Max.
- Max doesn't stop laughing for a second even in the middle of the kiss and then he stops moving and breathing and Daniel is panicking a bit. Because he knew it would ruin everything, this thing he feels for Max. But then Max's hand is in his neck, drawing him against his lips again, magnets in the dark.
- So yeah, that's a thing they do now. Making out. Heavy petting. Every time it happens, Daniel wants to flail his arms, run in circles, scream like fucking Tarzan. It's like getting a podium over and over again, it's like champagne bubbles getting trapped in his chest. Max kisses him like he races (point-blank, non-stop, making him weak at the knees) and he likes to make Daniel straddle him and he likes to caress his thighs, draw his tattoos again, the three against his lips before kissing each of his fingers.
-It makes Daniel effervescent with happiness and when they're racing in Japan, he's fourth in the race, almost a podium and he comes back to the garage and hugs everyone and laughs and almost cries because he's coming back, baby, he's so coming back. And he goes back to the hotel and doesn't go to his room, he goes straight to Max's room and he doesn't stop to think because he's going to chicken out otherwise.
- And he's on his knees.
- He's on his knees for Max, and he puts his forehead against Max's tummy and kisses his belly button and blows a raspberry against his hip and Max pushes his head away, silly-laughing, and Daniel says let me, let me, please, I won't do it again, Maxy, but let me and Max touches one of his brows and touches his hair and then brings him against his body.
- And kissing Max is like getting a podium but blowing him is getting second place, getting drunk, getting sweaty, getting high-high-high.
Nobody wants to get coffee on Halloween night. Thatâs a fact that should be common knowledge. Clearly, more people are interested in getting candy, going to parties, or getting drunk tonight than spending their money on overpriced caffeine vessels.Â
Unfortunately, nobody told Carlosâ boss that it would be worthless to stay open after 4:00 pm tonight. So now Carlos has been at the register since sunset, diligently watching a completely empty cafe for going on three hours.
Not like he has anything better to do, really. Halloween parties are lame, and heâs not really one for watching horror movies alone either. At least heâs getting paid for his boredom.Â
He flicks one of the bat-shaped garland decorations draped above his head and watches it spin. Three rotations. His record is six and a half.
The door behind the counter swings open with a topical creak. Alex peeks his head through, surveys the empty cafe, and huffs. âHonestly. Everyoneâs clearly out enjoying their holiday and weâre stuck looking at empty chairs all night.â
âI have been looking at empty chairs,â Carlos says, rolling his eyes. âYou have been on TikTok in the back room.â Carlos can hear his strange, jerky laugh every ninety seconds or so through the door.
Alex doesnât even give the jab a second thought. âYou know what? Iâm calling James. Iâll tell him exactly what our last three hours have been like, and hopefully heâll give us the last bit of our night back.â
He disappears back from whence he came before Carlos can say anything. Whatever. Alex has always been social. He probably has a million better places to be tonight. If Carlos gets the night off, then heâll probably just end up editing his dissertation or watching pirated episodes of Good Eats or something equally lame for a man just past thirty to do on a holiday.
Heâs got the bat decoration up to eight rotations when the bell over the front door chimes. A guy rushes through the door, fighting a bit when his jacket gets caught on the wooden frame.
âHey! Sorry Iâm a little la-â he clears his throat. âOh.â
Carlos watches the guy belatedly realize heâs standing in an empty coffee shop. He scans the placeâs small dining area, like heâs checking if someone isnât hiding under one of the tables or behind the ficus in the corner of the room.
Nope. Heâs the only one here.
Reluctantly, the guy walks to the counter. Heâs wearing a bright orange T-shirt that has costume written on it in Comic Sans. Ah. An ironic holiday enjoyer. Carlos restrains himself from rolling his eyes.
âThis is⊠Jitters on Third, yeah?â the guy asks, checking and rechecking his phone.
Carlos nods. âYes. This is us.â
âOh,â the guy says, shoulders slumping. âAnd⊠you guys are open?â
âYes. We are open.â He knows it must not look like it.Â
âWas there aâŠâ he shuts his mouth with a click, reconsidering. âHas a guy come in recently? Uh, shorter, curly hair⊠British?â
Carlos shakes his head. âNo one has been in here since I started my shift.âÂ
With every question Carlos answers, the guy seems to get smaller and smaller. The guy finally nods. âHeâs probably just⊠Sorry. Iâm meeting someone here.â
Thereâs a light pink twinge to his cheeks that Carlos can see clearly under the counter lights. Heâs still fidgeting with his phone. Carlos has that habit too, when heâs nervous.
Carlos is unexpectedly thrown back to his last year of high school. Sitting on a cold park bench with wilting flowers, waiting for someone who was never planning to come. Itâs not something heâs thought about in a long time.
âWould you like to order something while you wait?â Carlos asks.Â
The guy considers it, looking behind him out the plate glass window one more time, just in case. âSure. Uh, what do you recommend?â
He thinks about it. âWe have our pumpkin spice line on special tonight. Seasonal, you know?â
âIs it sweet?â
âIncredibly.âÂ
The guy cracks a small smile at that. Carlos can see his front teeth. âAlright. Can I, uh⊠do a pumpkin spice hot chocolate? Is that allowed?â
âOf course itâs allowed,â Carlos says, laughing a bit. âWhip?â
âPlease,â the guy says.Â
Carlos asks for a name even though heâs the only customer theyâve had all shift.Â
âOscar,â the guy says. And. He looks like an Oscar.Â
He makes the hot chocolate and adds a few extra chocolate shavings to the whip, as a little treat. Oscar gives him a curt nod as he delivers the drink to his table, still tapping on his phone. Glancing at the screen, Carlos can see five or six messages sent from Oscarâs side, still waiting for a response.Â
Carlos goes back to the counter and pretends to clean something.Â
Heâs finished reorganizing the mugs when Alex bursts through the back door. It makes Carlos jump. âGot an answer from the big boss- we are good to close up early if all the customers are gone.â
âReally?â
Alex is already pulling on his coat. âAnd good thing, too. I was going to go mad if I missed seeing George in his-â he stops abruptly, eyes locked on the back of the cafe. âWhoâs that?â
âCustomer,â Carlos says plainly.Â
Oscar pays them no mind. It looks like heâs leaving someone a message at the moment. Carlos can make out something like âIâll still be here, in case you⊠If something happened and you⊠Just⊠let me know.âÂ
âYou think if I play the music really loud, heâll leave?â Alex asks.Â
âHe said he is waiting on someone,â Carlos says. He doesnât mention that itâs looking more and more likely that whoever that someone is isnât coming.
Alex groans, an ugly noise. Heâs always been very impatient.
Carlos shakes his head. âSush. Look, you can go. I can⊠I can lock up.â
Alex doesnât even bother with an âare you sureâ before heâs out the door.
Carlos rolls his eyes once again and goes back to flicking his little cardboard bat. He keeps his eyes on the front door, where heâs sure Oscarâs been looking all night. Itâs dark. Nobodyâs even on this side of the street. He hopes whoever heâs waiting for just has an all-time terrible sense of direction.
He drifts his attention to Oscar, looking so small in his corner seat. He looks like a ghost like this, pale and sunken in. Carlos knows how horrible it is to be embarrassed for feeling hopeful and excited. He would rather be stabbed than feel that again.
After thirty agonizing minutes, still no one has shown up, and Oscar looks no closer to leaving but exponentially closer to crying. Carlos canât have that.Â
His feet move before he gives them permission to, but eventually, heâs across the cafe and standing in front of Oscarâs chair.Â
âHello,â Carlos says. For an opener, Carlos gives himself a 5.5/10.
Oscar startles a bit. âOh. Hi.âÂ
Carlos coughs. He probably should have thought about what he wanted to say before he walked up here. He gestures to Oscarâs empty mug. âUm. How was the⊠Was it okay?â
âOh. Yeah, actually,â Oscar says, sitting up a bit. âIt was really nice. Thanks.âÂ
His lips turn up in a small smile. It does a strange thing to Carlos. It makes him want to see the full version. He wants to see how it pushes up his cheeks and wrinkles his nose. He wants to see more of those front teeth.Â
âAre you um⊠Still waiting?â Carlos says gently.Â
Oscar deflates in his seat. âI probably look like a bit of a mug, huh?â
âNo,â Carlos says stalwartly. âWhoever you are waiting on is the mug.â
Oscar snorts without humor. âI met him at a costume party yesterday. We were both wearing masks and⊠hit it off. He said to meet him here tonight without the mask.â
Carlos nods. It sounds like something right out of one of those movies his sisters would make him watch.Â
Oscar sighs, fiddling with his empty mug. âHe probably got one look at me through the window and decided not to bother.â He says it flippantly, like heâs playing it off as a joke. But his eyes say that he believes it.
âSurely not,â Carlos says too quickly. He genuinely canât imagine someone being disappointed with how Oscar looks. Heâs adorable-- with floppy brown hair and nice eyes and moles that look like constellations. Heâs very lovely to look at, really.Â
Oscar smiles at that, looking up at the ceiling. âGhosted on Halloween⊠funny timing, at least.â
âCan I make you another hot chocolate?â Carlos asks. Itâs funny how much he wants to. âOn the house.â
Oscar smiles a little wider-- a wonderful, wonderful thing. âSure.â
Carlos turns to make the single greatest cup of cocoa heâs ever made. Before he can round the counter, Oscar clears his throat.
âUh⊠If you want⊠Um. Maybe you could⊠make yourself a cup too and join me here?âÂ
Carlos turns around. Oscarâs face is tinged pink and his eyes are so, so wide. Carlos can see how brave heâs being. It makes him want to wrap Oscar up in a blanket and bring him home.Â
âI would love that,â Carlos says gently.Â
Thinking quickly, he makes a detour to the front of the shop. He flips the OPEN sign to a very definitive CLOSED. Just in case.
IDF tanks are firing on civilians near Deir Al-Balah during an agreed ceasefire because they never had any plans to end this genocide and their goal is still to eradicate the Palestinian people. I donât even know how strongly I can say: fuck you if youâre still supporting Isreal.
CWs: background infidelity (not between Max and Daniel)
The elevator shudders to a stop one floor away from Danielâs hookup.
âShit,â the man next to him says. He pulls his face into an expressive frown, pale skin wrinkling into deep crevices around his pink mouth. Heâs wrangling a cat carrier and the leash to a wirey dauschend, who is very much looking at Danielâs legs like heâs hankering for a bite.
Daniel pulls out his phone and texts the guy, then flips back through the pictures heâd sent earlier. The guy is more lean muscle than Danielâs preferred broad shoulders. Daniel canât say heâs all too distressed if he misses out on this particular guy, but itâs been a hot minute since he got any action on his backpacking trip, and he navigated a French grocery store to find razors and shaving cream for this. He was in tiny shorts that made his legs look good, even though Monaco in March was way colder than he thought. Heâd be pretty annoyed if an elevator cock blocked him.
Scotty Grindr: Shoulda warned you haha I got stuck in an elevator here for an hour last week. Probably the same one.
Scotty Grindr: Iâve got training soon so might have to cancel if youâre in there long
Daniel rolls his eyes, bangs his head against the wall of the elevator, and just sends a âno worriesâ. Heâs just grateful he has any service in here at all.
âDo you mind pressing the call button?â The man next to him asks. âIâd do it, but my hands are a bit full.â He lifts the leash in one and the carrier in the other, making his bicep bulge out of his t-shirt sleeve. Heâs got a cute accent, something Daniel canât identify, but it makes his s sound lispy.
Daniel complies, only to be met with the news that itâll probably be at least 30 minutes before theyâre rescued.
Daniel exchanges exasperated looks with the other guy, and they both settle themselves to the elevator floor without another word.
After a few moments of silence, the cats start meowing inside their carrier.
âJimmy, Sassy,â the guy scolds. âYou were already naughty at the vet. Be nice.â He gets on his knees to bend toward the carrier, and oh. He has a nice ass, rounding perfectly inside his ugly khaki shorts. Daniel politely averts his eyes and messages Scotty while the guy pleads with his cats to chill out.
Daniel: Itâll be 30 minutes or so
Scotty Grindr: yeah damn sorry wonât work
Daniel: we can meet up after your training stuff
Scotty Grindr: donât have the place to myself after. Enjoy monaco though. Sorry about the elevator.
Daniel huffs out an annoyed laugh. Heâs been on Grindr long enough to know what thatâs a code for - the wife will be back. It should not be this hard to get his dick wet with an unmarried man.
âYou alright?â the guy asks. âIn a rush to get home?â
âNo, Iâm - well, I was visiting. My hookup actually just cancelled on me because he has somewhere to be, and the 30 minute delay is just too much for him,â Daniel says. Another Grindr notification beeps at him, and he turns his phone off entirely.
Hot Elevator Guy tries to hide a laugh that tugs on his nice mouth. âIf 30 minutes was the difference maker, I think he might not be very good at sex and you are lucky he cancelled.â
Daniel looks at the guy. The guy looks at him, up and down, lingering on Danielâs thighs. He didnât go so far as to shave his legs, but the guy doesnât seem to mind. Daniel watches as his tongue darts out between his plush lips and wets them before biting down with straight-across front teeth.
âNot to be forward,â Daniel begins, and the guyâs mouth quirks up slightly, âbut are you free after this rescue?â
âIâm Max,â he says, and darts his eyes up at the elevator camera that no longer blinks red, âand I donât see a reason to delay.â
Daniel looks warily at the little dog minding its business in the corner. It seems tame enough, but he doesnât fancy having his dick bitten if he goes crazy from being cooped up.
âDaniel, and I thought we were going to need a lot longer than 30 minutes,â he challenges, instead of saying all the bitten-dick stuff.
Max shrugs. âWe can get started.â
Daniel casts one more wary look at the now-dozing dog, tries to pretend he isnât a grown adult about to have sex in an elevator, and nods.
Thereâs come on the inside of his rumpled shirt when rescue comes 43 minutes later, and more still by the next morning. Max graciously donates him a jumper for his journey back to Nice so Daniel doesnât have to wander back cold and bare-chested. He barely checks out of his hostel on time, starting the next leg of his journey hours later than planned and having explored none of Monaco, but sated and happy from a night in mysteriously wealthy Maxâs giant bed and luxe apartment.
Heâd spotted some kind of sports memorabilia and trophies in the living room when heâd stumbled out for water, but that was the extent of his hint. He didnât really care what hot Max did anyway. He could be in charge of a dangerous cartel and Daniel wouldnât mind with a body like that. It was clearly a much better night than Scotty Grindr had, given that he messaged Daniel just as Max was waking him up with a morning blowjob.
Daniel carefully packs away the navy blue sweatshirt with a Red Bull logo on the chest into the bag space now available from his missing come shirt and ventures on his way.
Scotty Grindr: Sorry, itâs been a few days and this is random but your profile is pretty artistic. You do photography by chance? Need someone to shoot my next competition and I thought you might be into the combo of a free trip & free dick
Daniel: your wife not going?
Scotty Grindr: no, and donât pretend anyone on grindr is uptight about marital status. You in or out? Staying at a nice ass resort
Daniel: I donât have snow gear or real camera equipment
Scotty Grindr: i got you covered
~~~
Max doesnât think about Daniel with the bumpy nose and nice curls and colourful tattoos that often, but he does, sometimes, like when theyâre in Australia to race, and Max wonders if Daniel maybe lives in Melbourne now, sees Maxâs face on posters on his way to work. He doesnât know what Daniel would do. He doesnât seem like a guy that would do well in an office setting. Red Bull makes them do a boat activity on the Yarra River, and Max thinks maybe he could do something like that. He could be a bartender because heâs very good with people. Daniel would be good at many things, probably.
Itâs hardly an obsession. Max types âDaniel Perthâ only twice into google, and looks through the photos on some popular Perth tattoo shops to see if he recognizes any of them, but Daniel also got his tattoos done all over Europe. His mum was not going to be pleased by the growing canvas upon his return, he had told Max, which is why she wasnât going to see any until he was back and she was too overwhelmed with joy to reprimand him. Heâd then let Max lick and bite at all his thigh tattoos. It was a very good evening.
The point was, Max knew what heâd signed up for by fucking a random backpacker. It was good for him, to find a guy who didnât recognize him and wouldnât rat him out online after. He was hot and charismatic and funny, but he also touched Max gently, reverently, and gave him enough material to be a permanent memory in his fantasies for ages after. That was enough. It proved Max could do what his friends always teased he couldnât and have sex that didnât turn into monogamy.
It was good sex, so itâs natural that it would pop into his brain from time-to-time two years on, but he isnât obsessive and weird about it. He hadnât thought about it for almost six months, actually, when the media team tells him at Monaco that heâll be teaching some Red Bull athlete how to use the sim for a video.
Scotty James is annoying, Max observes off the bat. Heâs trying too hard for the cameras and ignoring Max when theyâre not rolling. He doesnât take anything Max says seriously, then acts out in exaggerated shock when he crashes the car. Heâs desperately trying to get a viral clip, Max thinks, and he pastes on a stoic expression and plainly explains everything Scotty is doing wrong until theyâre both rolling their eyes and there will be little useable footage.
âIâm just going to get my photographer to get a few shots of us,â Scotty says at the end, like Red Bullâs entire production and the photos they take somehow wonât be good enough for him. Max doesnât know why a snowboarder needs a full-time personal photographer, but whatever gets this interaction finished.
Scotty whistles, in a way thatâs probably meant to be playful but makes Max hate him more, and a guy dutifully trots over. Tan, dark curls, a smooth chest under a brightly patterned, half-unbuttoned shirt. Max would recognize that side profile even blind; can still feel the shape of his nose as he ate Max out until both their chests heaved.
Scotty doesnât bother to introduce Daniel, just indicates that he should start clicking when he poses next to Max. Max canât even imagine what his face is doing. It must be twisting into something vaguely between shocked and horny.
âDaniel,â he says dumbly, and Danielâs finger slips off the button heâs pressing.
Max can feel Scotty jerk in surprise next to him. Heâs probably looking back and forth between them, trying to figure it out, but Max canât look away long enough to know for sure. Danielâs got a few more tattoos dotted around the skin thatâs visible to Max, but he looks essentially the same. Healthier, maybe, stronger from a probably steady home base rather than wandering around backpacking on a budget.
âHey,â Daniel says sheepishly. He does an awkward half-wave. âWasnât sure youâd â yeah. Good to see you again.â
Wasnât sure Iâd remember him, Max realizes, and resists a laugh. He wonders when Daniel realized who Max was, if he hesitated to come at all because of it. Wonders how Daniel ended up being some dickheadâs personal photographer, and if heâd ever thought of reaching out to Max.
Probably not. Probably Daniel just thought of him as that F1 driver he hooked up with once, because heâd probably hooked up with many hot and interesting people since to replace that memory. Max knows their night was great, but Max didnât often do casual. He doesnât know if other people remember everyone, if his touches would linger on Danielâs skin the way Danielâs did for him.
âDo you â are living you in Monaco now?â Max asks. Scotty is still standing there for some reason, invasive. Max tries to angle his body to block him out, but Scotty just moves closer to Daniel, all possessive-like.
âNice,â Daniel clarifies. âA bit less expensive, but still close enough to Scotty. He, uh â he lives in your building, actually, if you still live in that same one.â
Max doesnât, had moved into a bigger place a while back, but he understands what Daniel is actually telling him.
âWell, I hope you need longer than 30 minutes nowâ, Max says after a pause, and tries to tamp down the triumphant smile when Daniel snorts and Scotty looks confused.
âThatâs not â no, not anymore. Scotty, you should show Max your kid. He loves âem.â So Daniel backed away when a baby got involved, Max translates, but heâs still stuck working for the guy who clearly doesnât pay him well enough if Daniel has to live in Nice.
âDR, wanna fill me in here?â Scotty asks tersely, clearly not loving being on the outside of this coded conversation.
âI have to go,â Max says, ignoring him completely. âBut put your number in?â He hands his phone to Daniel, leaving WhatsApp open. He hopes Daniel notices thereâs no texts to any boyfriends or secret wives.
When Daniel comes over that night, he hands Max a bundle of navy fabric.
âThought you might want this back,â he says, then sits on the couch with his legs open. His already tiny shorts ride up even further, exposing new tattoos. Max gives the material a cursory glance, intending to immediately return his eyes to Daniel, then double takes and unfolds it when he sees a 33 stitched under a Red Bull logo.
âWhat â is this my hoodie?â he asks, in disbelief. Itâs clearly well-worn, but Daniel doesnât seem embarrassed.
âFigured it was time it was returned, though I hear youâre a different number now.â
Max clutches the hoodie between his fingers. He, insanely, wants to bring it to his nose, breathe in the scent of Daniel and all the years that had passed between then and now. Insane, because the real Daniel is on his couch with his chest out and thighs out and a knowing grin on his handsome face.
âYes,â Max says, tossing it to the side so he can occupy his hands with Daniel instead. âI think we have to do some catching up.â
we both have a chance to win the wdc this year and we want the champion to be whoever deserves it the most... for now i think clearly the battle is lando and i. we want the best person to win every weekend and err.... at the moment that's what's happening!
â» Online Disinhibition Effect by @hamlettee
James Vowles/Carlos Sainz, 8K, rated E, complete
that trope you hate: crack fic
â» you like me piercing by @officialmood
Carlos/Alex, 9K, rated E, complete
that trope you hate: animal transformation
â» light dark light by @oopslandiia
Lando/Oscar, 4K, rated E, complete
that trope you hate: infidelity
â» shadows make sense by @astonstrolls
Fernando/Lance, 2K, rated E, complete
that trope you hate: angst
â» Rain Delay by @rollingest-hills
Alex/James Vowles, 6K, rated E, complete
that trope you hate: rule 63
â» cat got your tongue by @usual-shenanigans
Alex, James Vowles, & Carlos (gen), 1K, rated T, complete
that trope you hate: crack fic
â» All I Need by @lealu
Lewis/Nico, 4K, rated E, ongoing
that trope you hate: hanahaki
â» in/connu by @edmonton-toilers
Pierre/Charles, 6K, rated E, ongoing
that trope you hate: infidelity
â» Oxytocin (running in the ether) by @shineon3
Max/Daniel, 1K, rated E, ongoing
that trope you hate: texting fic
â» baby fever by @adaine
Lando/Oscar, 6K, rated M, complete
that trope you hate: age regression
â» mixed signals by @brawngp2009
Jenson/Andrew Shovlin, 3K, rated T, complete
that trope you hate: omegaverse
â» Mind Flip, Time Slip by @overtake
Max/Daniel, 4K, unrated, complete
that trope you hate: time loop
â» through the walls (i think i hear my name) by @brushedbymelancholy
Alex/George/Carlos, 6K, rated E, complete
that trope you hate: non-linear narrative
this is gonna be a little embarrassing bc i have not read some absolute seminal works in the tag (crash landers your day will come and i know i will lose my mind) so of the ones i have read, skewed by recency bias bc my memory is a sieve:
set all my tongues upon you by @whichisgolden
god i love an oscar who simply will not even look directly at his own desires and a carlos who would give him absolutely anything and never ask for more in return
burning (like a tire fire) by @brushedbymelancholy
will i ever stop thinking about oscar buying plane tickets to spain in the middle of the night because carlos asked him to? no! no i certainly will not!
metaphysical solipsism by @janinaduszejko
outsider pov i love you!!! the scene in the car when carlos is driving drunk oscar back to the hotel my heart is broken in the best way. i adore when people write carlos being so soft and vulnerable and jd does it so well
the curse of your company by @ctimenefic
witch carlos! WITCH CARLOS! truly the best present i have received this fic was written for me in every possible way
those who ask by @antimonyandthyme
is there anything so beautiful as people processing their emotions about a driver slow-motion spiraling through a season. is there anything so beautiful as finding someone who perceives the blorbos the same way you perceive the blorbos.
Carlos: "I had to win World Series to go to F1-"
Alex: "Or Helmut was gonna-" *mimes a whip*
Carlos: "Or Helmut was-" *mimes cutting his throat*
Both: *laugh*
