Tortuous love. max verstappen
Pairing: max verstappen x male! reader
Summary: Mark is willing to give Max a love he has never experienced before.
Genre: mostly fluff, angst
Warning: jos verstappen, child abuse, daddy issues, jos verstappen again, English is not my first language
masterlist
Can you blame Max for finding relive in tortuous love? That’s all his father has ever taught him. Now he’s looking for his rude, soul devouring, soul taking love in everyone, and when he finds that person he holds them deeply with his long arms filled with hate.
He can’t love like a normal person, and he can’t give a healthy expression of his love to the persons that deserve it. That’s the most likely reason to why Max hated him at the begging. He was easy to love, he liked most of the things Max did or said, admired them even, and called him out respectfully when he did something he did not agree with, he was open about his feelings. Open. About his feelings. A true nightmare of a teammate if you had to ask him, especially after Daniel.
“God, Max- you’re so fucking amazing” his rookie teammate was hugging him as if his life depended on it, his sweat and the champagne rushing against Mark's blue helmet. He had won, but the brunette finished fourth, the first loser to miss the podium.
Max didn't felt that as a win, his father made sure he knew finishing first was his duty. Mark sure felt that as a win; he was congratulating him, telling him how amazing he was, and genuinely feeling happy for him. Truly a nightmare.
"Thanks" he murmured, before letting himself be dragged by the crowd of Red Bull employees.
Months after that, as they were preparing for the Emilia-Romagna Grand Prix, Mark had insisted in flying a couple of days early to enjoy the wonders of Italy. He had been trying to learn Italian for the last month, and Max can vividly remember the brunette hovering all over him with Italian catch-up lines.
When the brunette invited him to join his early flight he did, for some reason. He wasn't sure why he accepted, or why Mark invited him in the first place, but Max was happy about it.
At least, until he founded out his teammate had also invited Lando. It was understandable, after all, you two started in f1 the very same year, and were also known for having a very deep, heart moving friendship. Max wished he hadn't felt as relieved as he did when he saw Carlos approaching with the papaya pilot. Carlos was never mentioned in the first place, but he was relieved the Spanish was there, hoping he would be enough to take Lando a bit away from Mark, so that way he wo- Wait, why the fuck did he wanted Mark’s attention in the first place?
“Maxie” He was caught by the very one disturbing his mind. The brunette was giggling, his iPhone headphones hanging from his freckled neck. “You okay? You are not looking that good” Before Max could come with a cheap excuse, his teammate spoke again “I mean you do look good, you- shit! No. I didn’t mean it like- It’s not that I checked you out or anything, I just-" he was flustered, burning red colored all of his face. Max hadn’t even notice, been too focused on the other’s neck and the constellations forming there.
“It’s cool, I know what you meant” Mark sat next to him, hiding his face in between his hands. A brief smile danced in the blond face as he spoke again “I’m just thinking” Max leaned against the other, picking his shoulder “What are you listening?” The sudden, unexpected question seemed to erase every sight of blush. He jumped in his seat, practically throwing max one of the headphones in excitement.
Perhaps, Max had underestimated Mark’s abilities with language. When they arrived, he started speaking Italian more loosely than expected, not just catch-up lines, but actual sentences.
“You sound great” Max congratulated as the brunette handled him the ice cream he had just asked for.
“Grazie mille, signori” Max giggled, provoking on the other a soft pink blush. Mark was quick to lace their arms together, as he guided the dutch to the McLaren drivers, that were rambling over their ice creams some meters above them.
Max was still mad about his DNF in Belgium. He was demolished, not even the previous win in Germany was enough to make up for it. It was his duty after all, and every time he didn’t stand in the highest podium he was neglecting said duty.
In Italy, he finished eighth. Mark made it to podium, third place. Max wanted to hug him and congratulate his job as much as the other always did. He even ignored his dad calling him out about today just to rush over Mark. They hugged, and it felt great, it compensated all the insults and daggers Jos throw at him later.
“You’re coming to the party, right?” Mark big chocolate eyes were begging him, with a puppy gesture. He was ignoring all the congratulations, all the pats in his shoulder, everything, just for Max.
“Of course” He giggled, “Can’t miss your party”
Damn, maybe he should have missed the party. Max was blinded by the flashing lights and the stupidly loud music. Mark was nowhere to be seeing.
Daniel was the first person he bumped into. He was already tipsy, and offered the Dutch a shot of tequila. In a normal situation Max would have accepted it, hoping to easy his mind, but right now certain brunette who happened to be his teammate was the only thing occupying his mind, and the last he wanted was to kill that thought.
“Have you seen Mark?” His voice was came out a bit loud, hopping the Australian would hear him in between the nose. A subtle shade of red was covering his cheeks and the top of his ears.
“Markie?” Daniel screamed into him, making Max nod with discomfort. ”He was with Nando I think”
“Nando?” He furrowed his eyebrows at the mention of the Spanish man.
“No, wait. Not Nando, Lando!” Maybe Daniel had drink more than he thought in the first place. “I meant Lando! Yeah!” He screamed with a wide smile. Max gave the man a shy thanks, before starting his search for the other.
Mark was dancing with the other pilot, but soon left him when his eyes meet Max’s. Approaching him.
“You’re actually here” Max couldn’t bring himself to answer, too stunned by the way Mark’s big brown eyes seemed to shine. The man was truly beautiful.
“Can we go somewhere more private?” Max leaned into the other’s neck, almost brushing the freckles that adorned said skin with his lips. Mark shakes over the heat of Max breath hitting over him, gently rubbing the blond’s waist with his hand. He nodded, giving Lando a final look the dutch wasn’t able to describe. “It’s a great party” he said when they made it to the alley, his teammate’s hand was still in his waist, and Max was not going to be one to complain.
“You did well today. I’m not sure if I told you” Max got shy, again, when Mark mumbled his reassuring words. At this point Max found relieve in them, he no longer wanted to scream at him or punch him for them. Max had slowly come to terms with himself.
“I should be the one congratulating you” Max found himself leaning closer to the man, and the heat he emanated. “You did great Mark” His cocky grin expands at the dutch’s words.
“Thank you” Mark had his eyes glued at Max’s as they leaned closer. “Do I get a prize?” His other hand found the blond’s bareback as he still caressed his waist.
“For a third place?” Max mirrored the brunettes cocky gesture. They were centimetres apart, their breathings mixing in a heated sigh, battling to keep their hands for themselves.
“I did great, didn’t I?” Max leaned closer until there was no space left. He was kissing Mark, he was kissing the pink lips his found himself watching so often. Finally.
Mark pressed Max body against his, leaving no space between their bodies either. Right when the heat was emerging between them, Mark cracked a laugh, founding a confused pair of eyes locked at him. “That was great, like actually great”
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