Chapter Text
Max sat curled into a ball on the couch, his head buried in his hands as the world fell down over him. P2, P2 again. He was so sick of finishing P2 in Singapore. Singapore was the flaw that everybody pointed out, the only race he’d never won. Max couldn’t accept that, couldn’t accept that small imperfection. The heat burned through his hotel room, the AC not nearly powerful enough to counteract the humidity. But Max didn’t care, if Singapore wanted to leave him dead, then he would let it.
Across the city, Oscar Piastri was doing a similar thing. He was so young, he didn’t yet understand the world. To him, P4 after a DNF meant that he was worthless, useless. He’d seen all the articles, and despite his best efforts, he’d read them too. His phone glowed on the coffee table, friends and family texting reassurances. Oscar ignored it, instead gripping the can of Monster in his hand hard enough to crumple the thin metal.
Max and Oscar were nothing alike. Max was an alpha, Oscar an omega. Max was blunt and brutal, never afraid to show his thoughts. Oscar was quiet, held back. They never should’ve bonded, never should’ve come together, and yet they did. Alphas were the rare protectors of their mates. They were one in a million, literally. Max was very much a characteristic alpha, and he embraced it. Meanwhile, Oscar pushed away his secondary gender like it physically burned him.
So maybe all of that led to Oscar picking up the phone. Or maybe there was no real reason why Oscar called Max that night, only fate bringing them together. Nevertheless, Max picked up on the first ring. “Oscar?” the dutchman’s voice cut through the silence of Oscar’s hotel room, the deep fire of the sound blazing through the darkness.
“Max,” Oscar whispered, his voice hesitant, “I have no idea why I called,”
“P4?” Max asked, his tone softening slightly.
“Maybe,” replied Oscar, “Max, I think something’s wrong,” Oscar supposed he couldn’t avoid it any longer. His stomach was twisting behind his ribs, his entire body burning in the heat of the Singaporean night. He didn’t recognize it as a heat–he hadn’t had a heat since the day he presented.
“What is it?” Max questioned softly. Oscar could almost see the way Max’s eyes were probably filled with concern.
“I don’t know. It’s too hot, everything feels scratchy. I can barely think right now, all the blood is… Well…” Oscar cut himself off.
Max wasn’t dumb, he knew what a heat sounded like, and he had his suspicions. “Oscar,” Max said, his voice commanding, “you are going to stay put. I am coming over, don’t even think about arguing.”
“Yes Max,” Oscar agreed.
Max changed into a white shirt, assuming that a Red Bull polo was the last thing Oscar needed to see. And he ran. He ran across the entire city, knowing that driving would only lead to hour-long traffic.
Oscar’s heat was getting worse by the second, his pale skin shining with sweat. He knew that Max was coming, and yet he felt so alone. He wasn’t supposed to be like this. He’d spent his entire life pushing away that particular part of him. Oscar groaned as another wave of pain hit him, twisting his lower abdomen in knots.
Max was at Oscar’s door in 10 minutes, out of breath but there. He knocked, even though he was fully prepared to bust the door open if he had to. Oscar staggered over to the door, barely coherent enough to open the door. The Aussie immediately pressed himself up to Max, clinging to him like there was no tomorrow.
“You came,” Oscar whispered after Max closed the door. Max smelled like burnt pine needles. His scent was so comforting, so protective. Oscar hadn’t let himself notice those things in so long.
“Of course I came,” Max said, “what do you think I am, a monster? I’m not going to leave an omega in heat to deal with it by themselves.”
“I’m not in heat!” Oscar yelled, pupils blowing with shock. Max let out a soft laugh, protectively pulling Oscar closer to him.
“Osc, baby, you didn’t know?” Max asked, his voice dropping to barely a breath.
“No?” Oscar admitted, burying his face in Max’s neck. Max shook his head. Oscar smelled like heat, he smelled like desperation, and yet the young omega still hadn’t put two and two together.
“Oh, liefje,” Max muttered, “you have a long week ahead of you,” Max gently carried Oscar to the couch, plopping both of them down in a heap on the soft cushions. Oscar whimpered, tucking himself so close to Max that they might as well have been fused together.
Max watched the lights of Singapore flicker outside as Oscar slowly started breathing more evenly in Max’s presence. The omega looked so peaceful, his eyes eventually falling closed as he drifted off into a dreamless sleep. Max eventually drifted off to, falling asleep to Oscar’s rhythmic exhales against his chest.
Outside, the city was oblivious. George was still celebrating his win, the lights of the club flashing unaffected. The Red Bull engineers were no doubt pouring over telemetry, wondering what had caused the car to miss so many apexes. And yet, so much had changed.
Max woke to Oscar grinding against his hips, eyes wild and desperate. “Osc?” he murmured sleepily, reaching out to still Oscar’s movement.
“Max,” Oscar whined, “need you,” There was a gut wrenching pain gripping Oscar’s body. He was far too hot, and his clothes were strewn across the floor. His cock was aching hard, and his body was begging to be filled.
“Oscar–” Max began. He was quickly cut off by Oscar crying out, the young man’s eyes were desperate, wild, even. Max groaned, he couldn’t do this. He wasn’t the right guy to do this for Oscar. And as Max was about to tell him that, Oscar opened his mouth.
“Max, please! Need your knot,”
Max sighed. He supposed if he was going to do it, better sooner than later. Max pulled his shirt off, handing it to Oscar to hold onto as he gently eased the struggling omega off of his lap. He stripped as fast as possible, his jeans quickly finding their spot on the floor. The second Max sat back down, Oscar was straddling him, grinding against his cock. “Max,” Oscar pleaded. His own cock was slick with pre-cum, red and aching.
“Patience, Osc,” Max whispered, “let me open you up first,” Max started slowly, gently using a finger to stretch Oscar open. The Aussie moaned, his head thrown back like it was the first time anyone had touched him there. Shit, maybe that was the first time anyone had touched him there. Max pushed the thought aside, instead adding a second finger. Oscar screamed. Max had found the spot.
“Oh, fuck! Max!” Oscar cried out, “please,” Part of Max wanted to tease Oscar a little bit longer, but Oscar was in heat, so Max added a third finger. Oscar was fucking tight, clenching around Max’s fingers. Oscar tried to grind down on Max’s fingers, only for Max to still his movements with his free hand.
“Now now Osc, be a good little omega,” Max teased, deliberately pressing his fingers into Oscar’s prostate. Oscar let out a high pitched whine, nails digging into Max’s shoulders hard enough to draw a hiss from the older man. Max finally pulled his fingers out, slowly letting Oscar sink himself down on Max’s cock.
“Fuck,” Oscar choked out, “you’re big,” Max gave a soft laugh, hands steadying Oscar as the omega struggled to take his length. Oscar gave a soft moan as the tip of Max’s cock brushed up against his prostate.
When Oscar sank all the way down, Max didn’t waste any time. He gave an experimental thrust up into him, driving his cock straight into Oscar’s sweet spot. “Fuuuck!” Oscar moaned, biting his fist to stop himself from waking up every guest in the hotel.
“Such a sweet boy, taking me so well,” Max whispered, lifting Oscar almost all the way off before driving into him like he was chasing a race win. Oscar couldn’t stop himself anymore, wanton moans falling from his lips with Max’s every movement. He was close, and Max knew it.
Oscar reached a hand down to stroke his dick. Max allowed him a few seconds, before pinning both of Oscar’s hands to his side. “Come on now, schat. If you want to come, you’re going to do it just like this,” Max’s voice was dripping with honey, comforting and rough at the same time. Oscar keened, but eventually nodded his head into Max’s shoulder.
It wasn’t long before Oscar came with a cry. Max fucked him through his orgasm, even as Oscar began crying in overstimulation. “Max, please,” Oscar begged, “I need your knot,”
Oscar had no idea what he was getting himself into. Max buried himself inside Oscar with a groan, his knot filling Oscar to the absolute brim. “Happy now, my little omega?” Max asked, pulling Oscar into him.
Oscar didn’t offer a response, instead melting into Max with a soft noise. The sun was in the process of rising, the soft rays casting an orange light through the large windows of the hotel room. They were incredibly lucky that the hotel room was high enough to avoid the paparazzi cameras that would no doubt have captured the explicit scene.
Oscar’s heat haze had faded for the moment being, and Max was eventually able to pull out without too much protest. Oscar collapsed into Max’s side, boneless and very much fucked. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said quietly into Max’s ear, “you could’ve said no,”
Max gave a smirk, “Schatje, you should’ve heard yourself. No sane person would’ve said no to you,”
“Still, I’m sure you had better plans to celebrate a P2 in Singapore with that shit car,” Oscar said. He was grateful that Max had stayed. He was even more grateful that Max had so willingly given Oscar his knot. Alphas, as far as Oscar knew, were usually very private about such things. But, there were so few of them, there wasn’t much of a norm.
“Oscar,” Max’s voice cut through Oscar’s thoughts, “my plans were to text George, congratulate him, and spend the night dodging requests to go out for a drink. This was a much better alternative”
“But still-”
“Oscar, go back to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
And so Oscar did. He melted into Max’s arms, burying his face in Max’s warm scent as sleep took over once again. This time, Max just watched, arms wrapped around Oscar as the young omega drifted off. Max couldn’t help but imagine one day walking Oscar down the aisle, bonding himself to the Aussie for all eternity. He would do that, he thought, he would give himself to Oscar.