Chapter Text
Max Verstappen — everybody knows he is a cold and private priority driver. But no one can imagine how much of a simp he can be when he’s in love. Especially when he’s in love with Yuki.
“Congrats! Our openly gay couple in the paddock!” Pierre giggles when he sees Yuki and Max arrive, with a very busy Max — left hand holding Yuki’s hand, the other carrying Yuki’s iced latte, and two backpacks hanging off his shoulders.
“Yuki-san! You’re spoiled rotten to the core!” Isack laughed.
Yuki, flushed by the teasing from his ex-teammates, tries to pull his hand out of Max’s. “Shut up, guys.”
“No.” Max tightens his grip on Yuki’s hand, then gives the Frenchman a cold glance. “Don’t care about the bald guys, Yu.”
Pierre refuses to talk to Max the whole day.
—
Max never prepared for this, falling so hard for a boy, specifically his teammate Yuki.
He never thought he would melt just from a giggle, or feel fulfilled taking care of another man, or ache when Yuki wasn’t around or was talking to others. He never had this kind of feeling, not even with his ex-girlfriends.
One time, George and Alex suddenly walked into driver’s room and saw exactly that:
Their rigid Max tried to fit his big torso onto Yuki’s tiny sofa, arms wrapped tightly around Yuki’s waist while the little man sat on Max’s lap, fidgeting with his phone.
Max buried his face into Yuki’s messy hair, inhaling as if it was some kind of luxurious perfume. Yuki didn’t even blink — he was used to it. He just sat on his boyfriend’s thighs and swung his legs along to the music.
“…You two are disgusting,” George grinned, judging his old-time friends.
Max didn’t even move. He tightened his hold on Yuki, eyes shut, continuing to inhale Yuki’s scent. Somehow even more intensely.
“Go away.”
“THIS IS A DRIVER’S SHARED ROOM! IT’S PUBBBLICCC!” Alex yelled.
“Thanks for reminding me. Go. Away. Friends.”
Alex stared at Yuki with a shit-eating grin, then lifted his middle finger at Max. “Look at your boyfriend! Kid”
Yuki giggled, shrugged, and lightly hit Max’s head with his palm. Of course, Alex and George left silently after that.
And it got even worse.
Max’s personal account, which used to consist mostly of race results, podium shots, and the occasional photo of his cats, was now filled with Yuki’s pictures.
A picture of Yuki half-asleep, in shorts and an AlphaTauri hoodie, frying eggs — “Breakfast made by my angel.”
A picture of Yuki smiling down at ice cream — “Both are sweet and tasty.”
A picture of Yuki hugging him in bed, face hidden in Max’s chest — “I’d let him run me over with the car with no hesitation.”
The comment section was full of vomiting emojis from drivers and memes from fans.
Lando: DELETE THE POST BEFORE I LOSE MY SANITY
Pierre: There are children on Instagram!
-> Isack: Who
-> Pierre: You
Lewis: Please show some respect to the single community.
-> George: You are not.
Sebastian: Lovely couple
-> Webber: Like us
But Max never cared — Yuki’s comments were always pinned.
And he would never stop posting pictures of his boyfriend. Even when he ran out of 4G, Max would sneakily use George’s.