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He’s 4 when the mark appears. He’s outside with his father when he feels the burning on his hip, crying out instantly at the sharp pain. His father knows exactly what’s happening, soulmarks are a common occurrence after all, and he just offers Maverick a comforting hug to try stop the tears, taking him into the house to grab one of his favourite snacks. He knows Maverick’s too young to understand the soulmate process, so tries to brush off his son’s questions, hoping that in a couple of years he’d get the chance to explain to him what the dark lines on his hip mean.
The curiosity soon comes back to Maverick, as predicted, as the Spaniard starts climbing the ranks of the motorcycling circuit. He’s still young, barely taller than his own bike, but his father figures he’s old enough to know the story about the marking on his hip, which looks like a Grand Prix circuit at first glance. His father tells him that someday, he’ll meet somebody very special, somebody who’ll love him more than anybody else, and that the marking will remind him of the person. Young Maverick doesn’t know whether to fully believe it yet, but still listens, knowing his father to be right.
Fabio had always grown up with the story of soulmates, having his mark since birth. He couldn’t see it, only the version of it in photographs and the mirror’s reflection, but he knew it was a tree of sorts, possibly a fruit bearing one. It had always held a sense of excitement and hope to him, knowing that somewhere out there, there was somebody for him to love with all his heart. Perhaps he was just an innocent dreamer, but he didn’t care, he was known for big dreams, proclaiming at the age of five that he was going to become France’s first ever Motogp champion, to which his parents couldn’t help but smile, knowing he’d go far.
His brother, Anthony, met his soulmate when he was ten, seeing them realise their marks matched during a family gathering. Fabio could see the happiness in his brother’s eyes, and he knew he someday wanted what they had. He just couldn’t figure out why the fruit tree would be so important to him, how it would lead him to his destiny. Besides, he still had a dream to chase, soulmates could wait for a little bit longer.
By sixteen, Maverick’s made it to the main stage, in the 125cc class. He knows this is his chance to break through, grab the attention of all the big bosses, prove his worth on the bike. They’re starting the season in Qatar, the heat almost unbearable despite it only being March. He knows the circuit well, it’s the one that connects him to his soulmate after all. He wonders if it means his soulmate’s another rider, or just a coincidence of meeting a fan who happens to be there. He wonders what his father would say if it was the first option, he doesn’t know if he’d approve if he ended up with another man. But in Maverick’s mind, he doesn’t care if it’s a guy or girl, doesn’t even care too much about meeting them, knowing it’ll happen when it happens.
He starts the season with 9th, which isn’t too bad given he’s new to the series, but deep down he knows he can give a lot more. He knows what he’s capable of, he knows the team wouldn’t have chosen him if they didn’t believe he could win. The next races don’t really go to his expectations, but there is improvement. A retirement in Spain and a 4th in Portugal are somewhat encouraging, as is any bike time, but it’s still not the podium he wants so badly, the one he knows he needs to break through.
Going into Le Mans, his energy is slightly different, and he doesn’t know why. It’s only his fourth race, he doesn’t know what could’ve caused the sudden shift. He’s got a front row start, sure, but even then, it’s not enough to throw him off. He soon realises the change in energy wasn’t a bad thing, as it carries him to his first world championship victory, a moment he hopes is the first of many. He takes it all in on the victory lap, a marshal handing him a Spanish flag he uses as a cape, and it’s only then that all the emotion hits him, knowing that no matter what, he’ll now be part of the group who succeeded.
Fabio can feel the emotions . He doesn’t know how he can, or why he can, he just knows somebody out there’s exceptionally happy, and it’s probably his soulmate. He’s watching the motogp on his weekend off, knows that in both Moto2 & 125cc, maiden wins were claimed for Spaniards, but he doubts it’s them, who’s he to compare to them anyway. He’s too young for them, only just turned twelve, and the thought of being matched to them terrifies him. He doesn’t know how the fruit tree would relate to them anyway, it’s too far-fetched to even make sense in his mind.
He does what he does best to forget, racing hard and winning championships, notching up another junior Spanish title by the end of the year, ignoring the occasional butterflies in his stomach as he raced on, not needing the distractions whilst trying to chase his childhood dream, bringing France the Motogp title they’d never before had.
It goes the same over the next few years, winning championships at an alarming pace, and people take notice - a lot of people. He shatters the previously held records, proving that youth wouldn’t hold him back, a similar story to Motogp where Marc was succeeding as a rookie in the way he was in CEV Moto3. The thoughts from 2011 played on his mind occasionally, wondering if it could indeed be Marc, but he doesn’t even know what the Spaniard’s mark is, can’t be sure if they’d even get along. He’s just some kid who people think has potential, Marc’s already a multiple motogp champion, they’re from two different worlds.
2015 is different. Maverick’s made it at last to Motogp, a lifelong dream achieved. He’s not alone, having graduated with Jack, one of his closest friends, but he still feels lonely at times, being one of only a few rookies. He feels helpless, and it shows, taking a while to settle in and bring home big results. Suzuki are patient with him, helping him through everything, but he knows there’s something missing. Or rather, someone. He knows they’re closer, and he knows it’s probably a rider at this point, their presence in the paddock noticeable every weekend. But he hates the feelings it brings at times, he just wishes he could find them and settle everything, despite having no ideas about who it could even be. He remembers the feeling first started in France, suspecting it could be someone French, but he doesn’t know many, only Loris and Mike, and both of them were already partnered.
Every visit to Losail brings him hope that his questions might be answered, but it never goes like that. He kicks off his 2016 there, and it starts well, better than the previous year, but again, no soulmate to claim. He knows more of the grid now, and celebrates his results with more of the guys, going out for drinks with some of the other Spaniards like Marc and Dani, and even some of the Moto2 guys. It becomes a routine for them after every race, and he enjoys the distraction from his own thoughts. He knows it's dangerous if he’s left alone with his thoughts, especially if it concerns finding a soulmate, and he’d rather talk about anything else. He hates the fact they keep messing up his feelings, even if he tries to block them out, but he’s no closer to finding them and it’s haunting.
Silverstone’s a milestone for Maverick, first victory on the cards. He’s had podiums, but none sweeter than this, the top step at last. He’s overjoyed, his hard work paying off, and he never wants to forget how it feels being on the top step, the anthem being played in his honour. He celebrates like never before, champagne flowing like there’s no tomorrow, and he’s positively sure he won’t remember half of it the morning after. He finds he doesn’t care, even if the next morning he wakes up in Valentino Rossi’s motorhome, half strewn over the leather couch.
Summer 2018 is where everything changes. Suddenly, the dream is realised for Fabio, a Motogp ride within his grasp. He’s still young, but the team trusts him with everything, and he’s not saying no. He knows Franky well, his teammate for the upcoming year, and of course he knows Valentino on the factory Yamaha, who doesn’t know The Doctor himself. But he’d never really known too much about Maverick, the Spaniard on the other Yamaha, other than his name and nationality. But now, the four of them were representing Yamaha for the next year, and he’d be thrust into a position where he couldn’t avoid the guys anymore.
As it turned out, Maverick was the nicest of the lot towards him, despite not being his teammate. He got on with him better than he did with Franky, and the conversations flowed easier than they ever had. It scared Fabio how well they got along, because he knew that it wouldn’t be fair on either of their soulmates. How could he go on with Mav, going so well, when his soulmate was somewhere out there waiting for him to come along.
‘Unless it’s him’ his mind supplied as a thought, but Fabio quickly brushed it off, it wouldn’t be that Maverick was the one, life generally wasn’t that kind.
2019’s a fun year for him, despite the pressure of being a rookie. Seven podiums and rookie of the year, it’s enough to keep him smiling for years. Of course, he hated losing to Marc repeatedly on the final laps, but he knows the victory will come soon, he’s shown the world he was worth the risk, and that’s all he wanted at this stage. He’s grateful for all of the Petronas crew, for helping him settle in, and especially to Franky, who’s been the best teammate he could’ve had. But he’s also thankful for Valentino and Maverick, who’ve helped them adjust to Motogp, making the dark moments a little brighter with their encouragement.
Something still doesn’t feel right about Maverick, and he can’t put his finger on it. He loves spending time with the Spaniard, he treasures the time dearly, but there’s something that feels different with him. Deep down, he thinks he knows, but he can’t admit it to himself yet, he’s scared of the truth, scared of what would happen if he was wrong, and reading the situation differently.
He’s heard stories of riders being soulmates before, and he’s a bit scared about the possibility of himself being another one of the names. He remembers hearing about Marc and Dani having the matching marks, but that it was the most difficult thing in the world for them, trying to make it work as teammates whilst both fighting for the same dream in a clash of ambitions. He can’t say he remembers much, he was barely in the paddock when all the drama unfolded, but he remembers some of the photographs, Marc clearly crestfallen, and Dani without his usual smile. He hopes they’re happier now, Marc at least looks happier, he’ll give him that much.
He’s also scared of what his family would think if it was Maverick. He knows his mother wanted him to find a girl, bring her the grandkids she wants after Anthony’s kids. But he knows it won’t be what she wants, he knows he’ll be letting her down and he doesn’t know how to deal with that. But he knows that ultimately, he should just let his heart be free, and hopefully his family would accept that as good enough.
Despite that, when the chance to become Maverick’s teammate arises, he’s signing before he can even read all the contract. He knows he wants this, factory Yamaha team rider, and a real chance at his childhood dream. The deal’s announced a few days later, everyone excited for 2021, especially as he has the blessing of his childhood idol after all. It makes the prospect of 2020 a little easier, knowing that no matter what, he’s got the Monster Yamaha deal.
If only everyone knew what 2020 would throw at them.
Maverick hated being alone. Well, he had Minnie, but still. Nobody around the house to keep him company. Everyone was stuck at home until further notice, advised not to go out, and all races were either delayed or cancelled. He was crumbling, relying on his friendships more than anything over the previous years. He could call everyone easily, but he didn’t quite have the nerve, they all looked busy on their social media anyway. It was lonely, and he absolutely hated it.
Some of the grid were luckier, they had their soulmates to keep them company. He didn’t, at least not yet. Thinking about it, Maverick knew next to nothing, other than the fact they’d be another rider, but he’d had that figured out for a long time. He thought maybe they were French, but it could’ve just been that the race was around a special time for their person, to trigger the change in energy he felt. He just wished he knew who they were, the chase for them was agonising, and he just wanted answers.
Thinking about it, there was one person who he’d come to know, who could possibly fit as his soulmate, but he wasn’t confident in whether it was true, or whether he’d be happy with the match. It was said that your soulmate made you feel happier than before, and it was no coincidence that Fabio brought out the best in himself. But the younger one had so many tattoos, he had no idea which one was the corresponding soulmate tattoo, and which ones were just decorative. He couldn’t find a connection to any of the visible tattoos, but knew that often, people kept them hidden, hoping Fabio’s was the same. As well, it would fit with the date he got his mark, his dad telling him he got it in spring 1999, around the time Fabio was born. But the more he thought about it, and his own mark of Losail, he doubted whether there was a connection. Sure he liked Fabio but everybody did, it was just natural to be cheerier in his aura. At least, that’s what his brain tried to tell him, anything to stop his thoughts wandering to kissing his cute smile, a thought he didn’t want to be dealing with when his soulmate was out there somewhere.
He hates himself for thinking like that, guilty almost, and it only gets worse when people keep reminding him that they’re gonna be teammates soon enough. He wishes they’d all just be quiet so he can focus on the riding, but even then, the good results don’t follow. It’s embarrassing, being smoked by Franky on the satellite bike, and Fabio also claiming more wins than him. Sure, 2020 was a tough year but even then, the factory yamaha should’ve been beating the satellites, and he wasn’t able to do that much. It stung more than he could have anticipated.
Making it to Yamaha was a dream come true, and he was so glad to have someone like Maverick as a teammate, somebody he liked and enjoyed spending time with. Fabio knew he could win, and Maverick could too, which would make the fights more fun if the bike was anything like promised. The one downside of having Maverick as a teammate, however, was having to constantly see him in his leathers, ever so distracting on the other side of the garage. He knew a hot guy when he saw one, and Maverick was definitely one of them, but he couldn’t be pulled in this easily, not when a championship was on the line.
It all started in Qatar, like it usually did. This was his chance to prove himself to the world. He heard a lot of people saying Franky deserved the chance, and he was determined to prove them wrong. He wanted to show everybody he wasn’t here to mess around. But this time, it was 2 races, 2 weekends, and 2 chances.
It was almost like a dream for Fabio, p5, a win, and 2nd in the championship. Just like Maverick managed in reverse. He was so happy that he’d started the season off like this, and the fact that Maverick had done it too made him just that much happier. The feeling of ecstasy would never get old, especially hearing La Marseillaise playing out in his honour. Victory was the sweetest gift in the world, and he was glad to do it with good company.
Champagne was flowing late into the night as celebration, Yamaha laying on all the drinks, and he definitely wasn’t going to turn down a glass or 2, especially if the bill wasn’t on him. He found some of his crew sitting at one of the tables, sipping on the remains of their glasses, and momentarily went over to say hi, striking up a conversation about Portugal. But his attention soon gets diverted, at the hands of a certain Spaniard.
He’s stood by the bar, one hand leaning against the counter, and the other clutching a beer bottle, effortlessly perfect in Fabio’s mind. His white shirt’s clinging to him in all the right places, rolled up to his elbows to show off his forearm tattoos, the black ink vibrant against skin. He can’t help but stare at Maverick, he’s looking as handsome as ever, and he’s tired of pretending that he isn’t what he wants. And with the alcohol running in his veins, it’s the last bit of confidence he needs to make the move.
It starts off with small talk, as it usually does, before they quickly make their apologies and leave the celebration, heading back to their hotel rooms together. It’s not out of the ordinary, he’s done it before at Petronas when he wants a breather. But this time it’s different, it’s the man he’s about to confess his love for, and he’s scared of rejection, doesn’t want anyone to find him if it ends up going wrong.
All it takes is a simple “I really like you”, four little words to initiate the kiss, Maverick leaning in with an expression laced with desire, taking his lips with a ferocious need to get everything he can possibly take. And Fabio lets him, lets him take what he wants, lets himself be spent by the Spaniard. He doesn’t care when they start to move it towards one of the beds, when the shirts come off, when limbs get tangled, he’s beyond the point to care, all he knows is that he’s got Maverick at last, his scent filling his senses as they continue to kiss, bodies dangerously close together.
He knows he shouldn’t have walked out on Fabio, but he’s a coward. He’s afraid of not being good enough, afraid of them not being a match, even if he’s 99% sure the Losail tattoo now makes sense. It scares him, and he couldn’t stay there any longer, he had to leave before Fabio woke up and noticed.
He can’t deny, the night was certainly special, and he wouldn’t be opposed to doing it again. He just can’t stop the stories he’s heard in the paddock from dictating his actions. He doesn’t want to end up like Dani and Marc, driven apart as soulmates by a team who claimed to care. And whilst he knows now, he’s destined to love Fabio, he loves this sport just as much, and isn’t prepared to choose between them. He doesn’t know if the Frenchman’s aware of the connection just yet, but Maverick knows it’s there, he knows he has the Losail tattoo for this exact reason. And it hurts, it hurts because he’s terrified of this, terrified to let himself love somebody so perfect, that he’ll merely pale in comparison.
He tells the team he’s leaving at his home race. He tells them everything, that he’s sure his soulmate’s within the team and doesn’t want the competition to drive things between them. They agree to cut the contract short, let him go at the end of the year, if it’ll make him truly happy. Maverick knows it will, he’d already been talking to other teams who’re keen to take him on. Fabio, inevitably, doesn’t take the news well.
In fact, he ignores the Frenchman for as long as he can, keeping himself to himself. If he’d have looked, he’d have noticed Fabio’s sad stares from across the garage, but he kept his gaze far away from the Frenchman, knowing being involved would only lead to trouble.
Fabio didn’t know what he’d done that night for Maverick to completely shun him, to the point of wanting to leave the team. He thought he enjoyed it, if his enthusiasm between the sheets was anything to go by. Maybe he let his feelings show a bit too much, he didn’t exactly know, but this hurt more than anything else. Beforehand, the garage seemed to have life, whereas now it was just empty, lifeless, nobody daring to speak to the other side. He hated it so much, he just wanted to see Maverick happy again, even if he would never be the reason why.
Maybe he was stupid, but out of desperation Fabio tried messaging Isaac, asking how Maverick was. He was lonely, spending most days holed up in Andorra with nothing much to do, still living with regrets about Losail. He didn’t expect a reply, didn’t expect Isaac to openly give up the place name, but he strongly advised a visit to Maverick. And before he could think it over, he was jumping in his car, making the drive down to Figueres.
The sight at the door broke him. It was Maverick, but he was broken, eyes red rimmed and glassy, looking like he’d just been crying. It wasn’t the Maverick he’d come to know, come to love. He was broken, and the sight hurt him. All he wanted to do was take him into his arms, hold him, tell him it would all be okay. But before he could, it was Maverick who commenced the talking.
“Fabio, I cannot stress how sorry I am for Losail. I need you to hear me out on this. Come in, I’ve got some seats in the garden near the fig tree, go sit down and I’ll bring you a drink.”
The way he spoke was so calm, for someone who looked so distressed. But the sincerity in his voice was enough to convince Fabio, walking through the house to the back garden, finding the seats under the fig tree. He watched Maverick walk over with two water glasses, hands slightly trembling as the conversation approached, the one they knew they’d needed to have since that fateful night.
“Before you ask, I was the one who chose to come. I missed you so much Mav, I couldn’t stay away.” Fabio told him gently, throwing a soft smile to the Spaniard, seeing a slight rosy blush arise on his features.
“I missed you too, and that scares me. It’s why I left that night. I was terrified, because I knew I’d fallen too hard for you, and if I stayed, we’d have been driven apart by the team.” Maverick replied, trying to keep calm, laying his heart out for Fabio to see. Fabio could see the pain on his features as he spoke, it was clearly something Maverick had kept bottled up, and couldn’t take anymore.
“But we’re not like Marc and Dani, we wouldn’t have had the same fate.” he questioned in reply, hoping Maverick understood he didn’t need to run.
“And that’s why I’m leaving. Because we deserve better. I love this sport, with all my heart, but I also love you Fabio. And I can’t choose, I won’t choose.” Maverick told him, and he could feel his heart break at the truth. He knew the sport was brutal, knew that teams didn’t really take well to soulmates, so it did make sense that Maverick chose himself. But at the same time, it filled him with joy, hearing his confession, knowing he was indeed loved.
“But you could’ve stayed?” He asked Maverick, trying to understand the decision fully, despite knowing he probably knew the situation and his own feelings better.
“And that’s exactly what Dani did. He stayed, hoping once he realised Marc was his, things would change. They didn’t. They’re better now but trust me, it wasn’t pretty, not until Dani retired.” Maverick told him with a sigh, remembering how horrible it was to watch them fall apart. The media had no clue they were even matched, let alone feuding, but the riders knew everything, their expressions off camera never lied.
“So you did this for us?” Fabio asked him, trying to make sure he had everything correct. He wanted Mav, and he wanted this to work, and was hoping his move was to protect them in the future.
“I did this for us both, Fabio. I did it so I could love you without worrying the team would drive us apart.”
The love in Maverick’s eyes when he said it was clear. Gold specs visible, corners creasing through smiling, he was happy and Fabio could see he meant every single word.
“I honestly don’t know what to say.” he just replied to the Spaniard. He’d never been loved like this before, unsure of what to do or say. But he knew it would be okay, as long as he had Maverick.
“Then don’t say anything, kiss me instead.” the Spaniard just offered, and who was Fabio to deny.
Standing up, Fabio came closer, slightly taller than Maverick. Smiling down, he leaned in, taking him in for a short kiss, losing himself in the sensation as Maverick moved against him, sunset beating down on them under the fig tree. Eventually, they broke apart, foreheads still leant together, arms still holding each other close.
“Which one of those is your mark?” Maverick suddenly piped up, curiosity taking over as he raked his eyes across Fabio’s skin, taking in the various tattoos littered there.
“It’s the fruit tree.” Fabio replied, not really bothering to move. He didn’t really know too much about it, instead just waited for somebody to recognise what lay on the back of his left arm.
“Wait, roll the sleeve up!” Maverick suddenly yelled out, spotting a familiar detail he needed to check over.
“Mav, why?” Fabio just questioned, but to no avail, as Maverick was already manhandling the sleeve upward to check the design of the familiar tree.
“That’s a fig tree!” He spoke out, almost in disbelief. It was at that moment when the realisation sunk in, and that his soulmate might’ve been there the whole time, without him knowing.
“Oh. It’s you. Holy fuck its you.” Fabio just replied, tears welling in his eyes behind his smile, trying not to spill with happiness. At last, it all made sense for him, he just needed to wait for this moment, the kiss under the tree.
“Fabio, are you sure?” he just got in reply, Maverick hesitant, but the firm smile he got in reply told him all he needed to know.
“Never been more sure. I know you’ve got Losail on your hip, saw it during that night in March. I never knew my mark would lead to you until now. Barely knew what it was to be honest.” he beamed back to the Spaniard, smiling through every word, happiness coursing through his veins. He’d only ever dreamed of the moment he’d meet the one, ever since it happened to Anthony, but now, it was a reality.
“Goodness, you have no idea how happy I am.” Maverick just beamed back, laughter on his lips as he leaned back into Fabio’s hold, holding him close once again.
“Actually I do, look down!” Fabio just laughed, feeling the telltale sign of arousal pressing against his hip. He knew the situation was probably the same for himself, but who could blame him now he was getting what he wanted.
“Oh fuck.” Maverick bluntly groaned, realising the situation immediately and taking a step back, trying desperately to settle the situation in his shorts, to no avail. It didn’t matter to Fabio, who pulled him closer again with a shy smile.
“Yeah. I’m so glad it’s you, though.” he murmured, feeling strong arms envelope around him, and for the first time, it felt like he
belonged.
“So am I Fabs, so am I.” was the mumbled reply, the pair basking in the golden sunlight, taking the time to just relax. It was a moment just for them, away from the job and spotlight, where they could love without judgement.
“Anyways, fancy sorting out that problem?” Fabio’s voice cut through the silence, eventually finding the tension too much, knowing Maverick wanted it as much as he did. With a smirk, the Spaniard grabbed his hand before dragging him back inside, headed straight for the stairs to lead to the bedroom.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
Pulling into Parc Ferme, all emotions took over. This wasn’t a childhood dream anymore, it was an adulthood reality. He’d conquered the world, given France their first Motogp title, and most importantly, he had everyone important to him there to watch. The French flag cape flew nearly behind him as he lapped in the applause, fans stood in the grandstands applauding the new champion.
It had been unfortunate how Maverick had ended up in Parc Ferme for the race, a qualifying crash ruling him out, but he was determined to still be there for Fabio at the barriers, alongside the rest of the family, who he finally got to meet after a bit of gentle persuasion from the Frenchman. Turns out they all loved him, and the worry was all for nothing, settling into the family right away. And with this acceptance came a new purchase from Maverick, one that sat firmly in his jeans pocket, waiting for Fabio to walk over to them all.
The moment Fabio bounded over, the tears started falling, everyone screaming out in joy, mumbled French & Spanish being exchanged as cries of victory. He leapt into their arms, feeling the closeness, and Maverick watched on with the proudest expression on his face, knowing that this was his soulmate.
Locking eyes, Fabio gently raised an eyebrow, and Maverick knew what he was asking. It had been a question between them for a while, keep things between themselves or make it known, and it had always been Maverick as the more hesitant of the pair. But today, he was a proud boyfriend, and he wanted the world to see so. He no longer cared about the past, he was overcome with pure love , so with a quick nod he tugged Fabio closer, bringing the Frenchman in for a short kiss, lips locking gently. He could hear the audience’s cheers, feel the cameras going off, but he didn’t care anymore, and neither did Fabio.
“You made me so proud today!” Maverick chimed in, arms clung tightly to Fabio’s leathers-clad frame, holding the familiar black and blue material tight. He was sad to depart the team, sure, but he held the memories fondly. But seeing Fabio succeed, it was worth everything, and he just wanted to savour the moment, hold him closer and show him off proudly. And it was true, he was so proud of what Fabio had done, both for himself and for his country.
“You know I wouldn’t be here without you.” the Frenchman replied, taking a step back to catch a breath, beaming at all of his family as he did. He could hear his team beckoning him over, but he knew they could wait, he needed his family for just a little bit longer.
“Marry me? I know it’s soon but I want to call you mine.” Maverick suddenly blurted out, turning Fabio’s attention solely to him. He didn’t know if he was dreaming, it was already a pretty surreal day, this would just be the extra little bonus, if he was indeed hearing correctly.
“You’re serious, right? PLease tell me you’re serious?” He asked, looking on desperately, scanning Maverick’s face for a sign of truth, something to tell him the Spaniard was deadly serious.
“Should I do it properly? Yes I’m serious.” He asked in reply, worrying if it was too informal or not enough. With the approval of the security guard, he hopped over the barriers into the parc ferme area, stood next to his (hopefully) soon-to-be fiance.
“Fabio Quartararo, my soulmate, will you marry me?” Maverick asked, dropping to one knee next to the bike as he reached for the ring box, the silver band glistening once opened up. He could see the Frenchman trying to hold back tears, and he hoped they were happy tears, instead of being embarrassed on the world stage for proposing too soon. But before he could properly contemplate his doubts, he heard his reply.
“A thousand times yes! Of course I will Mav!” Looking up, he saw Fabio nodding furiously, tears threatening to fall from happiness, combined with his signature gap-toothed smile. It was the perfect sight to him, and he couldn’t quite believe he was here. He knew it would happen whenever it did, but this was far from expectation, this was better than expectation.
Standing up, he gently took the silver band, sliding it on to Fabio’s ring finger, laughing slightly at the slightly faded ‘shhhh’ tattoo on his index finger, knowing only Fabio could commit to something so silly yet at the same time so adorable. He could feel his own tears forming, overcome with happiness, but tried to hold back, sliding the ring so it sat proudly on Fabio’s finger. He brought the Frenchman’s hand to his lips when done, pressing a gentle kiss to the spot where the ring now lay, letting out a choked sob of happiness afterwards.
“Te amo, mi vida.” Fabio managed to splutter in response, just as tearful and overcome, but reeling on the feeling of joy. If he’d have been asked a year ago where he’d be now, he’d never have said world champion and engaged to his soulmate, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. It all worked in his favour, in the end.
“Y tu, mi amor” Maverick just whispered back, capturing his lips for another kiss. And he knew right there and then, the feeling would never get old, and that truly, the best was yet to come.