Chapter Text
They work so well together. He knows that. Or at least he knew.
He could see the beautiful sparkle of the ocean inside his boyfriend’s eyes whenever he got closer. He could feel the little stolen touches that Max would leave on his arm and back when they were interviewed together, every single time they were in front of people or cameras. He could hear Max’s laugh, at the top of his lungs, after he said the most unfunny thing in the world. He could smell the distinctive cologne that Max used for him when they found time to go on adventurous rendezvous behind the public eye. And, of course, he could taste the fondness through the kisses that his lover would plant so enthusiastically on his lips.
There was no possible way where all of that was untrue. His boy would never lie so shamelessly. Not to him, not to their love.
Still there he stood, static, trying to stay motionless with the intention of not risking any sound. He wanted to hear the conversation loud and clear, get all the gossip that was being spoken about him. He knew that he might not like it, nevertheless it had already ignited a fire inside of him.
“So what do you think, Max? Perez can leave for sure, doesn’t he?” He had heard resonate through the thin walls between the drivers' rooms.
“Yeah, I heard your father say that not much would be missed. Maybe they should give the seat to a certain somebody else…” Said a second voice. Sadly, he couldn’t identify any of them.
“And to who do you suggest?” The first voice replied.
“A particular Australian. Big smile, loud personality, the crush of someone I know…”
Up to that moment, Checo had pictured his man ready to fight back those snarky comments. He had imagined Max standing straight, crossed armed with the most serious face, and emanating this aura of confidence mixed with disapproval. Oh, what a fool he had been.
“A crush? More like an unofficial boyfriend. My perfect bromance, as they say. We do really have a special connection, it would be so easy to fit together on the team again. It might be the deepest bond I have with someone inside the entire grid. Nothing against my now teammate, just that he isn’t the same.” Max had said with laughs interrupting his agreement.
Checo knew their relationship was hidden to everyone, even their teams and families, but he wasn’t ready to hear those kind of lies. To his horror, he wasn’t completely sure they were lies. Even with giggles, Max’s voice had sounded so convinced, no room for doubts. It was clearer than when the same man had sworn to his face that no matter what, he would never deny him neither make him less, professionally or personally. Yet, there they stood with a weak wall, maybe even more, between them.
“Cheers for the platonic couple then. To the maybe obnoxious romance you’ll get if he actually makes the part.”
“Hell yeah! More exposure to our idiotic romance!” The answer echoed the space, followed by the laugh that a couple of moments ago could cure the harshest of heartbreaks, now creating an impossible one.
But Checo was his real boyfriend, their romance should have been the most important love in the world. The indicated one to fight for, wishing for everyone to see it. The nonsense drilled through the memories, the core beloved ones of their relationship, how could he keep them from falling apart after half of their unity had pronounced those deadly words? How could he feel brave when he was being torn apart by the most important man in his life?
Without thinking his body moved towards the wall, resting all his weight over it, attempting to break down what he had listened to. Back touching the freezing surface, entirely opposite to his burning head and flaming soul. That was betrayal, one of the worst he had ever faced, this one was personal, the closest to his heart.
His chest hurt, so bloody much that he had to physically grab it. Hand lingering over his middle, almost as if he was trying to recollect all the pieces of the broken mess. His breathing wasn’t smooth anymore, and without warning, his eyes had also given up by letting out some of the most painful tears he had ever cried. He was damned.
Letting himself slide slowly down the wall, he caught his sobs between his teeth, biting his tongue and attempting to swallow all the saltiness of his shambles. He hugged his shaking body while inhaling air that burned his nose terribly. Closing his eyes, he allowed a few more drops to fall on top of his white shirt.
Time had slowed down, and the voices behind the wall had transformed into a buzzing sound. No words were understandable anymore, just background noise.
Checo had lost all sense of time, he couldn’t comprehend if a minute, fifteen or an hour had passed. He could only admit to crying silently with a billion questions floating around him, waiting for the fiery droplets to stop running and the trembles of his body to end.
Carrying all his courage, he picked himself up from the cold floor. His hand made the strongest of efforts to clean all the evidence of the water splattered on his face. His lungs had returned to their usual breath rhythm a few moments before, somehow gratefully. He, indubitably, didn’t need to explain the situation to Jo or anyone else for that matter. Not now, not ever. Maybe.
“Checo, cabrón, we are waiting for you! Don’t fall asleep in there now!” Jo shouted through his room door without opening it. He knocked a couple of times too.
“Not that I can. Not when I can see myself getting that Pole.” Surprisingly enough his vocal cords weren’t as bad as he expected. Surely it sounded weary, but at least not broken.
He could tell that Jo wasn’t fully convinced with the answer he got, yet he still moved back to the garage leaving him alone again. A final sigh escaped from his mouth as he started making his final stretches to go out. Nervously he played with the edges of his perfect-fitted suit, buying more time for his already over stimulated brain. Attempting to elongate his preparation time, time that he didn’t have anymore as qualification was seconds away to begin.
With very tense hands, he opened the door and made his way through. Knowing damn well that he wasn’t looking great at all, hanging at the opposite end of his joyful personality.
He could feel the curious gazes from the team as he swayed by, stumbling a little with his clumsy feet, making his way down the corridor to his side of the garage. He was more than aware that all his feelings and emotions must have been left outside of the car, but this time around he didn’t feel strong enough to do it. So he put his helmet on with shaky hands. A whirlpool of thoughts running through his mind, playing with the pain and the uncertainty he had been feeling lately. He aggressively snatched his gloves from Jo, fixed up his suit properly one last time and jumped straight into the car, no more words or glances directed to his confused team.
Using his peripheral view, he caught a glimpse of Max also jumping into his bull. He felt again how his heart started rushing as his palms decided to feel a tiny bit more sweaty. But just before any bad incident happened, he was allowed to proceed and join the drivers out on track.
Lap by lap he constructed a very powerful pace, never missing a beat with the records that Max was establishing outstandingly. It looked like his tangled and restless mindset was carrying him impeccable through all the turns and straights. It felt as if an extra gear was added to his engine map. And long ago he had stopped listening to whatever Hugh, Pajarote, had been telling him through the weak radio.
But it wasn’t until the last lap. Understanding how close he was to Max, fathoming the idea of a new pole; his head and heart failed him with his performance. Eyes so bright and a smile so radiant appeared in his mind. His star had distracted him on his last sector, finishing P2 with less than a tenth to the pole sitter. He almost missed the mention of Carlos closing the top for the race.
Checo couldn’t quite explain or comprehend, but right then he realized how great was Max at twisting a knife to his aching self. He begged for all to be a dream, a very bad, dreadful dream.
He pulled himself out of the car, cursing his stupid emotions. He dragged his feet to the P2 stand and quickly took off the unwarranted equipment.
“Hi, mate! Haven’t seen you around much, how is your weekend going?” Said Max while he casually extended his arm to give a slight squeeze to Checo’s elbow.
No lies, with all the fuss surrounding the team because of his seat, both of them had been prisoners of the media. Almost no time to see each other, not in the way that Checo needed or wanted. Alone.
“Almost perfect on track, not the best out of it.” He moved out of Max’s touch as fast as he could, entertaining himself with the position of his helmet, grabbing his cap and ignoring the presence of the man.
“You nearly beat me for Pole, yes.” He could hear the precaution in his voice. “But are you okay?”
So now he expressed concern. Did he actually care, though? Checo noticed his vision going blurred one more time. Bowing his head down, he nodded the tiniest of “yes”, and kept playing with the back strap of his cap.
“Schatje, you’re scaring me. What is going on?” Despair showed between lines.
He threw his cap on covering the mess of his hair, gave one last empty look back to the desperate eyes of Max and slowly sighed the pressure away.
“Stop it Max. I don’t want to hear it anymore.” He turned around leaving his precious, painful sunshine behind.
Strong walk in direction to the interviewer. He had to protect his heart. Destroyed and hopeless, but he needed to protect it. At least pretend he was doing it.