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two months.
it’d been two months since they’d kissed after the end of season dinner. it was a tuesday, and max had dropped oscar back at his hotel room at 1:16 am.
his lips were soft on oscar’s; welcoming and gentle like a promise he could never be skeptical of.
oscar wasn’t sure whether to invite him in or not. if the kiss was a request for something more or simply… a kiss. it had sent him into a mini spiral in front of max and the door to his room—312, the eighth door on the left wall after exiting the elevator and turning right.
max simply stared back at oscar as he tried and failed to disguise his confusion of what to do next.
“you know we can leave it here, oscar,” he’d said just as gently as how he’d placed his lips on oscar’s seconds earlier. “i just wanted to kiss you. i hope that’s alright.”
oscar felt seen, for once. he hadn’t needed to say anything, max had just known, like it was as easy as taking a breath.
“okay. we leave it here, then.”
he’d tried to hold himself back from saying anything more, or asking for another kiss. that would seem like he was too eager. that was a bad idea. guys don’t like that too early on, after all. that scared them off; saying too many things too soon. oscar had learnt that the hard way.
but something about the softness in max’s eyes was foreign and new. not frightening-new, but comforting-new, if it could actually be that. it slipped out before oscar could stop himself, peering up at max from behind the bit of hair that’d fallen into his line of sight.
”can you kiss me again?”
max leaned in slowly, his eyes darting from oscar’s eyes to his lips. another kiss was placed, and the australian had just realised they were more chapped than he’d initially thought. crap. whatever, max didn’t seem to mind. unless he was just staying silent about it to avoid drawing attention to the obvious.
shut up, oscar.
it was nice, and lasted longer than the first, but not long enough to be too much all at once. that was good.
when max pulled back, he smiled. really smiled. not that fake one he practiced for the media. a real, genuine smile.
oscar smiled that same smile too.
max picked him up the next morning at 9:30. like, exactly 9:30. on the dot. that was also nice.
he gave oscar a quick peck on the cheek like it was routine before getting in the cab with him to drive to the airport. he’d asked the younger man if he was keen on flying in his jet two weeks ago, coincidentally just before oscar himself made a plan to get back to his home in monaco.
perfect timing. he wouldn’t have to change anything or do much. perfect overall, in fact.
he liked max, and spending time with him too. if that wasn’t clear.
oscar had never been touched like max touched him. like, in the history of ever.
it’d been a long few days after the first race in melbourne, and with some convincing (and an oscar who was too tired to really complain or think too hard), max had gotten him to fly to the next race with him again.
max’s jet was quieter than his usual plan for travel. it was just the two of them. no over-exaggerated smiles and ‘thank you’s to fans and staff and random people and checkout workers for the mango loco monster and salt & vinegar lays crisps he bought before a flight.
just max.
only max.
and then he was on max’s lap, his head in his neck as he comfortably drifted somewhere between consciousness and sleep.
max was stroking his hair with one hand and the other was cooling his back under his maroon t-shirt. max’s hands were always cold, and oscar always felt too hot when he slept.
the hand was a nice regulator. his hand was a nice regulator.
when oscar kissed his neck, max hummed. he pecked the aussie on the shell of his ear, and whispered how handsome he was. oscar kissed a bit harder, then, and nibbled ever so slightly. just soft enough to feel nice for the both of them.
he’d asked if he wanted anything more. that gentle dutch tone sitting in his brain for a few hours.
oscar nodded, and max had told him to use his words when asking for something important like that.
“yes.”
when max’s hand slipped under his boxers, he shivered from the temperature, but leaned into his touch regardless. oscar let himself relax. he trusted max enough for that. they’d discussed what they did and didn’t like already.
max knew exactly what to do and what not to do.
oscar let him, and smiled when max’s name and a soft moan slipped from his lips.
when max sat him down with the soft, fluffy blanket oscar liked that lived in his room, he knew what was coming.
they’d already spoken about this and planned to have this discussion at the end of the week so that oscar could mentally prepare.
“i like you, schatje. i want you to be my boyfriend.”
oscar took a breath, nodding, before remembering the rule.
“i want to be yours, max.”
it was easy. like everything was with max. it wasn’t this big Thing like everything was with lando and the team, or even his parents.
besides, he’d known this was coming. it didn’t need to be ceremonious, it just needed to be them.
and it was.
and as max kissed him and whispered “my boyfriend,” oscar smiled.
really smiled.