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– Oh, sweetness.
Max just sobs in response.
– It’s not your fault. I can assure you it isn’t. And there’s a chance it will get better before Miami, yeah?
There’s always a chance. Max hasn’t been in a shit car, like, ever, so this is his first experience actually struggling. Every time he slides his balaclava on, secures his helmet, climbs into the car, it feels like a thousand piercing needles hitting him in every inch of his skin. It feels like torture, even though this is what he’s been doing for more than a decade now, and he’s loved it every step of the way, except this one.
– It won’t get better. The sim is shit, the car is shit, I am shit.
Daniel just sighs, arms wrapped around Max, holding him close, resting his chin above his head. He hears Max breathe into his neck and takes a deep breath.
– Your car doesn’t determine your value, Max. Trust me when I say that it doesn’t. – Daniel wipes Max’s teary eyes with his sleeve, them leaving wet stains on the soft blue fabric of his Ford sweatshirt. – And besides, you have four World Championships. Your legacy is with you forever. And because of that, you can go and, dunno, explore other series. Indycar, Nascar, MotoGP for all I care. The world is your oyster, and F1 will always be glad to have you back if you decide to return.
Max just leans into Daniel’s chest now, silent. There’s an absolute ocean of thoughts in his head now that Danny’s mentioned exploring his options, none of which make sense and none of which he wants to invest in at the moment. He just puts more of his weight onto Daniel, to which the other giggles, stumbling back just slightly with a barely audible “woah”.
They plop down on the couch, Max’s head laid back against Daniel’s ribcage, hearing the quiet thumping of his heart. Daniel just threads his fingers through Max’s hair, massaging his scalp.
– Look, I.. I know, it’s hard. It’s always hard to let go of something you’ve given most of your life to. But letting go doesn’t mean erasing. It also means finding your spot in a different corner of the world, somewhere where you’re more comfortable, happier.
There’s a momentary silence, just the hushed sound of Daniel’s hands tangled in Max’s hair, running through the strands like sheep along a grassy field. There’s not much else to say, Daniel feels like he’s exhausted his support capacity and comforting vocabulary.
Just one more thing–
– I heard they wanted you full time at GT3.
Max chuckles. Daniel leans down to kiss Max on the forehead.
– Too slow for me. I can do it on the occasion, for the sake of racing and all, but definitely not as my main rodeo. – to which Daniel hums.
– Well, it’s still a bit too early to tell with F1 anyway, Maxy. Only three races in. And I get it, you’re impatient to get back into a good car, but let the team do some magic. A rough start doesn’t equal a bad season.
– Since when are you so wise? – Max laughs dryly, looking up at Daniel.
– Since when? I’ve always been wise. Look at me, I’ve got a beard now. Only thing left to do is go gray, and I’ll look like a wizard.
– And a robe and hat. And magic wand. That’s the whole package.
– Cat would be nice as well.
– Jimmy and Sassy aren’t enough?
– Well, maybe there’s, like, a special magic cat.
– You’re the wizard, you have to know. – and Danny just giggles in response.
They share this look. Their look. Max’s sad blue eyes, oceanlike, and Daniel’s hazel, full of love. Souls intertwined through a gesture so simple it would feel meaningless if not for their predicament. They see, they take, they hold parts of each other to their heart like fragile porcelain, in the breaking of which the nearest universes would collapse, a loss so tragic no stars in the sky could bear it.
And this is their way of holding on, through seeing parts of the other that you would not find under any microscope. Instead it is stored in the eye, a vast ocean of human hidden in a part that no one else gets to see so close. Fates written, choices regretted, words better left unsaid. All only for themselves to know, to yearn to understand and feel.
In a world full of plain, flat and notoriously boring, the other may only once in their life find someone of their kind. Full of mysteries, parts and pieces that are yet to be unveiled. And only then can one feel complete.
…
– Back to the elephant in the room, – Daniel goes back to their original topic, and Max scoffs. – I’ve put in my two cents. At the end of the day, it’s your call, but I’d give it some more time if I were you. I think we, or you, can come back to this at, like, Zandvoort. You’ll understand the season and the cars better by then.
Max sighs for the last time, choosing to respond with a chaste kiss, a wordless ‘thank you’ to Daniel. For the advice, the comfort, the presence of himself in Max’s life. Their lips smack together sort of awkwardly, and Daniel sighs, then moving Max around so the latter is seated atop his thighs, and gives him a proper kiss. He lets Max snuggle into him afterwards, face hidden in the crook of his neck.
Daniel feels like there is no need for gratitude. Max did the same for him a few years back. At this point, it feels like returning a forgotten favor.
And yet, the void that racing left in Daniel’s heart, was filled to the brim. With someone who he loved so dearly, so honestly, that he wondered if this was it.
If this was his completion.