Chapter Text
“I don’t think I even want to make it into Formula 1.”
This sentence, if Max would later decide to trace down the single most important moment of his teenage years, won’t leave his mind for months to come.
And it comes from Lando’s mouth. Lando , the funny, awkward omega who has been his long-suffering teammate on Call of Duty ever since they got introduced to one another during a never-ending award show.
So, this statement comes to Max like a punch in the throat. He is barely sixteen and Lando is two years younger to him at that time and they’ve been draining the hotel's Wi-Fi for 15 minutes to update Max’s PS4 so they could finally play a round of FIFA. Technically, Max shouldn’t even be awake and his trainer would clearly disapprove of the bag of chips they are eating. Even worse would be his dad’s reaction to seeing him hang out with Lando. His dad looked at their friendship with the same air of disdain he had for pretty much anything that did not involve racing or training.
Yet, for once Max didn’t care. Spending time with Lando, even if it was just chatting with him on the internet, was always a moment of carefreeness, something that was so rare in the midst of all the pressure his dad put on him. So, Max was willing to defy his dad every time their schedules made it possible to meet at the same circuit despite racing different categories.
Which is why he doesn't have the slightest idea how to react to Lando's unusually serious tone and he looks at him with questioning eyes until the omega repeats his words, this time with more confidence.
“I don't think I like racing as much as I used to...It's just too- too complicated now, you know ?" he sighs, looking at him with wide eyes, hoping desperately Max will understand. "I have a performance coach, a race engineer that tells me when I brake too early or too late...Where's the fun in it anymore ? A-and you know how I always make my own helmet design ? Well, I- I don't know but it's like one of the only thing that get me excited before a race lately...And I've just- I guess I just realized I wanted to start creating things ? And I've started looking out for ways to- to study graphic design. At first it was just curiosity, but the more I think about it, the more I see myself doing that.” Lando finishes explaining in a rush, visibly frustrated with himself for struggling to find the right words.
It doesn’t make sense in Max’s mind. For as long as he could remember, it never occurred to him that there could be more to his life than spending all his week-ends at the track, his nostrils filled with gasoline and his muscles driving around the circuit even when he’s asleep. Naturally, he had assumed it was the same for Lando.
So, he says the worst thing possible, without meaning to.
First, he guffaws. Then he opens is big, stupid mouth “Ah ! Sure you do ! Did you even finish high school ?” he teases lightly.
Lando doesn’t retort anything funny back to him. Actually, he doesn’t say anything at all. Instead, his face visibly drains from its color and his already tense traits turn into a closed-off expression. And despite how emotionally stilted he knew himself to be at that age, Max’s alpha instincts kicks in just at the right moment and make him realize how serious Lando is being.
Then, he pauses the game. “Wait, you’re not joking ?” he asks as he lays a hesitating hand on Lando’s shoulder.
And just like that, they start talking. Or rather, Lando does and Max listens.
About how Lando has started remaining awake for hours on end in his bed stressing over the next race even when he was back at home. About the pressure that kept piling up on him, the hateful comments online, the never-ending sponsored events that left him absolutely drained.
And how it all led to a simple conclusion for Lando : the more time passed, the less pleasure he had behind the wheel. Max listens to the guilt that is so evident behind Lando’s words as he talks about all the money his dad invested in his racing career and how Max is the first person he’s talked to about this realization. In the midst of his confusion, something warm grow into Max’s chest as he realizes that Lando trusts him enough to confide into him.
Later, when he’ll think back about the months that preceded this conversation, he’ll realize how obvious it was that something was tormenting Lando, that his usually sunny smile had dimmed more and more ever since the beginning of his karting world championship season.
But on that night, Max is still only sixteen and he doesn’t have the necessary hindsight for those thoughts. Instead, he hopes ordering an entire ice-cream tub from room service will cheer Lando up, at least temporarily. They end up finishing it between the two of them and eventually tears of relief escape Lando’s eyes as he understands Max doesn’t want to judge him, only to understand.
Lando and Max both end up falling asleep into each other’s arms, the cushions and blankets surrounding them acting like a nest to shield Lando from any more negative thoughts.
After that night, Max starts to check up every other day on Lando for the next few months.
He’s there on the phone when Lando can barely articulate through his sobs as he explains him how badly his father hid his disappointment when he told him he was thinking about hanging up his gloves. He’s there when Lando dares to show him the sketches he’s been practicing or when the omega makes the mistake of reading what people thought of him on the internet.
Most importantly, Lando’s sitting just centimeters by his side when they both read over the statement Lando is going to post on his twitter account to explain why he won’t step into Formula 3 next season.
A part of Max almost wants to try to convince him one last time that this isn’t a good decision, that he shouldn’t let his talent go to waste...But then, he remembers the hypnotising glint of passion that shines brightly in Lando’s eyes each time he starts talking about a new drawing technique he tried or a new graphic editor he’s been figuring out on his computer.
So, instead of talking Lando out of this, he takes him into his arms and promises him he did the right thing.