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Daniel paced the length of his tiny apartment, clutching his phone like it held the secret to life itself. Which, technically, it did—because on it was a tab open to an article titled “10 Foolproof Ways to Make Your Crush Fall in Love With You (Backed by Science!)”.
He had tried seven of them.
- Complimenting Max’s outfits (Result: Max grunted and muttered, “This shirt has holes in it, Daniel.”)
- Asking for help to build IKEA furniture (Result: Max showed up with power tools, but Daniel spent the entire time watching his forearms flex and didn’t hear a word Max said.)
- Baking something and pretending it was an accident so Max would drop by (Result: Max ate three cupcakes in total silence and left Daniel staring at the door for hours after he was gone.)
Number eight on the list? “Share a mutual interest.”
Which was a joke, because the only things Max seemed to love were quiet cafes, rainy days, and—
“Cats,” Daniel whispered, a lightbulb flickering on. “Max loves cats.”
He remembered, vividly, the way Max’s perpetually annoyed expression would soften any time he saw a cat. Even the stray tabby near the paddock café made Max pause mid-rant about deadlines and murmured, “Adorable,” in the gentlest tone Daniel had ever heard from him.
So, naturally, in a moment of desperate logic-leaping, Daniel concluded:
Max loves cats. Cats love Max. Therefore: Max will love me.
Daniel at the shelter, staring at the cats:
“Which one of you will make Max Verstappen fall in love with me?”
Which is how he found himself, twenty-four hours later, at the local shelter holding a sleek, unreasonably intelligent-looking black cat who blinked at him like he was the punchline of some cosmic joke.
The shelter volunteer said, grinning. “He picks his humans. You don’t pick him.”
The cat (Daniel names him “Turbo”) stares back with the expression of someone who has seen things and has no time for Daniel’s nonsense. Daniel chooses Turbo.
Turbo yawned and hopped onto Daniel’s shoulder like he owned him.
….
Daniel clicked “send” on the message before he could chicken out.
Hey, mate, I, uh, got a cat. Just thought you might wanna meet him. No big deal.
He immediately wanted to set his phone on fire.
But Max replied five minutes later.
On my way.
Daniel stared at the message. Oh my god. Oh my god.
He ran around his apartment in a panic, trying to clean up while Turbo watched from his perch on the kitchen counter with the quiet confidence of a cat who knew he was the main attraction.
“You’re the plan, buddy,” Daniel muttered. “Don’t ruin this.”
Turbo blinked. Slowly. Menacingly.
…..
Daniel clicked “send” on the message before he could chicken out.
Hey, mate, I, uh, got a cat. Just thought you might wanna meet him. No big deal.
He immediately wanted to set his phone on fire.
But Max replied five minutes later.
On my way.
Daniel stared at the message. Oh my god. Oh my god.
He ran around his apartment in a panic, trying to clean up while Turbo watched from his perch on the kitchen counter with the quiet confidence of a cat who knew he was the main attraction.
“You’re the plan, buddy,” Daniel muttered. “Don’t ruin this.”
Turbo blinked. Slowly. Menacingly.
….
Ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door.
Daniel opened it, trying to look like he hadn’t just sprinted around his apartment with a Swiffer in one hand and deodorant in the other.
Max stood there in his usual black hoodie, windswept hair, and that ever-present vaguely annoyed expression. Until—
His eyes landed on Turbo.
And everything melted.
“Oh my god,” Max whispered, stepping inside like he was afraid to scare the cat. “Look at his face. He’s perfect.”
Turbo—traitor—jumped gracefully off the counter and strutted straight toward Max like he knew.
Max crouched. “Hey, little man. What’s your name?”
“Turbo,” Daniel said, standing awkwardly behind Max, trying not to combust.
“Turbo,” Max repeated, grinning. “That’s the best name I’ve ever heard.”
Turbo rubbed his head against Max’s knee, then looked back at Daniel with a smug flick of his tail. Watch and learn.
Max looked up at Daniel, still crouched. “He is so cute.”
Daniel internally, “So are you”.
Daniel cleared his throat. “Yeah. He’s usually a menace.”
“I like him already.”
Daniel, internally:
I like you. I like you so much it makes me want to sit on the floor and cry, you emotionally unreadable bastard.
But all he said was, “Yeah. He’s... alright.”
Max sat on the floor, now fully engaged in a conversation with Turbo, who was purring so loudly it might’ve counted as a small engine.
Daniel watched, arms crossed, heart thudding, and thought:
So are you.
But he kept that one buried so deep, not even Turbo could dig it out.
Yet.
….
Max was halfway off the couch when it happened.
Turbo leapt up, all grace and passive-aggressive fury, and latched onto Max’s hoodie. Claws gently hooked into the fabric, eyes wide and offended, like Max had personally betrayed him.
“Okay, okay,” Max muttered, sitting back down. “I’m not allowed to leave, got it.”
Daniel, pretending to be very interested in his mug of tea, dared a glance at Max.
“You’re his favorite,” he said, trying to keep the jealousy out of his voice and failing completely.
Max smiled. “I have good taste.”
Daniel choked on his tea.
Turbo, apparently done with subtlety, circled Max like a tiny demon with an agenda. Then—very deliberately—he sat behind Max’s hand and shoved it toward Daniel.
There was a pause.
Max stared at his traitorous feline accomplice.
“I think,” he said slowly, glancing at Daniel, “Turbo wants us to—”
Daniel’s heart did a somersault. “Maybe he wants us to hold hands?”
Max’s fingers brushed Daniel’s.
And then—soft, hesitant, warm—he laced their fingers together.
“Maybe,” Max said, voice low, a little hoarse. “Maybe he does.”
Daniel wasn’t sure who was purring louder—Turbo or his chest.
….
The very next day, Daniel opened his locker only to find Lando leaning against it like a guy in a high school rom-com who was trying way too hard.
“Teach me,” Lando said, very seriously.
Daniel blinked. “Teach you... what?”
Lando looked around, then hissed: “How you got Max to hold your hand.”
Daniel flushed red. “I didn’t get him to do anything—Turbo basically had to stage an intervention.”
“Exactly.” Lando leaned in closer. “Where can I get a Turbo?”
“You want a cat?”
“No. I want Oscar. And if it takes a cat with a matchmaking kink to make it happen, I’ll adopt ten.”
Daniel rubbed his eyes. “Lando, maybe just try talking to him.”
“I tried! I told him I liked his shirt and he said ‘it’s just a shirt’ and walked away like he didn’t just rip my soul out.”
Daniel bit back a laugh. “Okay, okay. What if we… start simpler. Do you even know what Oscar likes?”
“I know he hates people.”
“That’s... a start.”
Lando sighed dramatically. “How do people function when their crush is hot and intimidating and has cheekbones that could cut glass?”
Daniel smiled, thinking of Max’s hand still wrapped around his the night before.
“You get really nervous. You panic a lot. And then—if you’re lucky—a small creature forces you to get over yourself.”
Lando squinted. “Do you rent Turbo out?”
“No.”
“Would you rent him out for a date?”
“He’d probably just judge you.”
Lando grinned. “Perfect. That makes three of us.”
….
The apartment was quiet, except for the soft hum of the fridge and the occasional crackle from the heater. The lights were dim, casting a warm glow across the living room, where Max and Daniel sat, shoulder to shoulder, on the couch.
They’d been watching some old movie neither of them cared about—Daniel could barely remember the plot. What he could remember, vividly, was the way Max’s head had slowly tilted, eyes fluttering shut, until he’d fallen asleep.
Turbo had wedged himself between them sometime during the third act, his tail curled around Daniel’s wrist and one paw pressed possessively against Max’s leg, like he couldn’t decide which human he liked more.
Daniel turned his head, just slightly, to look at Max.
Soft features. Tousled hair. A little crease between his brows, even now, like even in sleep, Max couldn’t fully let his guard down.
God, he was beautiful.
And Daniel was so, so in love with him.
So he whispered it, to the quiet, to the cat, to the air—because it was safe, because Max couldn’t hear him like this:
“God, I wish you’d see how much I love you.”
A beat.
Silence.
Then:
“I see it.”
Daniel’s heart stopped.
Max’s voice was low, thick with sleep—but definitely awake.
Daniel’s eyes widened. “W-what?”
Max didn’t open his eyes. Just shifted slightly, a lazy smile pulling at his lips.
“I’ve been waiting for you to say it.”
Daniel stared, stunned into stillness. “You—what—how long?”
Max cracked one eye open, just barely. “Since you brought Turbo home. Since you started looking at me like you wanted to kiss me and then immediately looked away like a coward.”
Daniel flushed. “I was trying to be casual.”
Turbo gave a very loud purr. Like a motorcycle. Like an announcement.
Max chuckled under his breath and turned, now fully awake, fully looking at Daniel.
“Hey.”
“…Yeah?”
“I love you too.”
Daniel blinked, stunned.
Turbo—absolutely smug—stretched, yawned, and crawled on top of both of them, curling up like a sentient comma joining two halves of a sentence.
His job here was done.
…
It all started when Lando texted Daniel for the fifth time in a week:
Lando: bro. bro. BRO. oscar SMILED at me today.
Lando: like properly smiled. i think. maybe. okay he might have been sneezing but STILL—
Lando: you’re the one in a Relationship now. help me.
Daniel: You need Turbo.
Lando: Your cat???
Daniel: No. THE cat.
And thus, Turbo Matchmaking Services was born. Not officially. Not legally. But spiritually.
…..,
Soon, word got around.
Charles borrowed Turbo and ended up cuddling Carlos on a rooftop while Turbo purred judgmentally between them.
Lewis used Turbo to “accidentally” run into an old flame aka Blondie—Turbo meowed twice, stared meaningfully, and they kissed 15 minutes later.
George tried using Turbo to flirt with Alex Albon. Turbo bit him lightly on the ankle and refused to get out of Alex’s lap for the rest of the evening.
Daniel started getting texts like:
Lewis: I heard the cat sets people up. Is this real?
Pierre: How much is the rental fee? Asking for myself.
Yuki: Will he help me get Max’s trainer’s number or not?
Daniel began keeping a Turbo Schedule.