#unrequited maxiel is the beat maxiel

[effervescentdragon]

“ungodly hour” title, maxiel!! (but if you don’t wanna write them someone else works too!!)

i have slept very poorly. i am drowning in studying about a country i know in its native tongue in fucking german. i am in class talking about influencers. i like torturing danny. i hope you like this anon ✌🏻🥰

Sometimes when the night is too quiet for Monaco standards, Daniel thinks about what may be, or may have been, if only everything was just a bit different.

He used to be on top of the world. Almost. It felt like he was on his way to be on top of the world, something he knew was in his power to do, something he knew he could do. He beat Seb in the same machinery, Seb who was the four-time World Champion for Red Bull. He fought his way through the ranks of Red Bull, which was pretty much what he imagined soldiers in the wars did fifty years ago, complete with the blood and everything. He'd gone against Seb and came out on top, and then Seb left and he was going to be the one who won all the time, the one who would win the ultimate prize, like the good guys won the war. Nothing would stand in his way, because nothing could. He beat the reigning - or not anymore, but close enough - World Champion, and now was his time. Time to shine. Time to win, baby.

Except it didn't happen that way, because he got Max for his new teammate.

He should've known. Probably. Maybe. He should've known when Christian smiled at Max after his first drive for Red Bull and said Good job, Max. He'd seen that smile before. Even worse, he'd seen the way Max beamed back on another blond, blue-eyed face. He should've known. The fact that he didn't was on him. The fact that he tried to fight it when he realised was all him, too. The fact that he lost wasn't as much of a surprise as it may have been if he hadn't held Seb's smile and Christian's answering one in the garage somewhere deep as his core memory.

Life is a circle, his mom used to say, and he'd laugh and run off to race bikes and cars in the dirt. The only circles he'd ever been interested in were the ones he could leave on track, perfect donuts, a winner's right. Those are still the only circles he's interested in; except.

Except he's in Monaco with Red Bull, a reserve driver this time, for Checo and Max, and he's got circles around his eyes that the make-up girl that, if he smiles right, he thinks he could fuck tomorrow - tonight, already, it's way past midnight - will cover up perfectly for the latest video in the Red Bull marketing machine. Sometimes, Daniel gets an immense burst of satisfaction when he thinks that no amount of PR will ever make Max likeable, one that he can only compare to taking a chicane perfectly. Not that he would remember anymore. Not for a while.

Except he's about to get up on less than three hours and put his well-practiced, charming smile on, and go watch Max win the Monaco Grand Prix. He's going to watch Max win, win again, circle after circle, round and round, on a track that was his once. On the track where he had his last victory. On the track where he last felt the high. On the track where he last had Max.

Or at least fucked him. Daniel isn't sure anyone will ever have Max. Max belongs to the racing more than Daniel can remember anyone else belonging to the racing. Max doesn't really care about anything else, and Daniel didn't really think, or want, Max to care about him or whatever. Max cares about winning, and so does Daniel. So when Daniel won, and they all got drunk in Monaco and ended up in Max's apartment, because it was bigger than anyone's, except maybe Lewis', and Daniel -begged- asked, Max -sighed and didn't quite roll his eyes as he- rolled his zipper down.

Daniel knew it wouldn't happen again the moment Max won the Championship. Their hug was immortalized for forever, and Daniel dutifully shared it on his own social media, and then promptly gave his phone to his manager before the picture finally disappeared from his grid. Just like he himself disappeared from the grid.

He resented Seb. That much he could admit. He resented Seb for being able to choose to leave. He resented Seb for winning. Most of all, he resented Seb for showing Red Bull what they could have - a golden boy for whom the worldd parted and who drove in circles like it was his only purpose in life, and who won every time.

He's looking at Seb now, in the VIP area. Retirement suits him, and he looks better than he did for the whole of last year. Nico is there too, and Daniel always resented the easy way him and Seb found their way around each other after only a couple of pointed jabs. Neither of them was as charming as Daniel, and still they somehow made it work. Still, they were both worth of adoration. Still, they both had what Daniel didn't have, and nobody could take it away from them.

"So how do you think is Charles handling his penalty?" Nico asks in English, and Seb laughs in his face.

"Nice try," he says, and Daniel knows he's missing something. "You know, I told him what Niki used to say, but that was a while ago. I don't know if he forgot."

Nico's gaze falters for a moment; the most feelings he will ever allow himself to show. "Niki used to say a lot of things, Sebastian, you have to be more specific."

Daniel catches the brief look Sebastian gives him from the side. "I'm talking about that thing he used to say usually when he git really annoyed. 'It doesn't matter if you're driving in circles, still you have to drive in better circles than the other nineteen guy'." He laughs, and it echoes in the sudden hollow of Daniel's chest. "Do you remember that?"

Nico laughs too, and Daniel has always thought Seb and Nico's laughs sounded very similar.

"Yeah," Nico says. "I remember."

Daniel turns his head to the skies. It looks like it will rain during the race. That should make it interesting. Max is good in the rain. He rubs his hand across his chest and sets his smile firmly on his face.