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vicsy · 7 months

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maxiel wrestling au ✨ 2.7k words that boinked me in the head cause i miss the good old days.

The new guy is way too green to be fit into a match right before the main event and Daniel voices his genuine concern with zero hesitation. It's his reputation at risk. Christian claps him on the shoulder assuredly, paints the guy — his name is Max and he goes by Super Max until creative will have something to do with that, fuck's sake — in the brightest colors. Tries to make a sell, a corporate rat in and out of the ring.

And the thing is, the new guy is sort of gloomy, doesn't smile much even when Daniel offers his signature greeting. He's not a fucking asshole, he won't tell a rookie to go to hell for that. They've all been there, first day jitters and all. But, man, this new guy. Something is off about him.

His ring gear, for starters, and Daniel shouldn't be the judge since his mom made him his first ill-fitting set back in Australia when Daniel was seventeen and scrawny, fresh-faced with crooked teeth and the energy of three hundred power plants. So, yeah, it's bad wrestling etiquette or whatever but the outline of a lion in the middle of the rookies' — sorry, Max's — ass is… something. The blue and gold shorty shorts fit alright, though, Daniel does give them an appreciative look. He prefers pants and shin guards, that's all.

And, shit, looks like this Super Max, for crying out loud, designs his gear himself, judging by this very self-indulgent print. People are gonna tear him to shreds, like vultures; crush his spirit, knowing how this biz works when you're twenty-five and still wide-eyed, full of dreams of making it big, becoming the next Shawn Michaels or The Great Senna.

Max is surely no wrestling royalty, no Rosberg or Flair or Schumaher. His dad was some midcarder in the late eighties back when FWF was at the cusp of breaking viewership records. And, surely, Max is a texbook continuation of his father's unfulfilled hopes. Daniel can read it in the way Max held himself, in the way his arms fidget when he talks and beside him Christian nods, proud, like it was his son making his big screen debut.

Daniel wonders, why him. Putting Max against younger guys would have been more plausible. Putting a company rookie against an established champion definitely seemed like a choice.

"Don't forget that I make the calls, Daniel," Christian says, the finality in his voice clear as day when Max steps away to put his signature on a contract for the night. Then the suit-and-tie fucker gives him a cunning little smile and Daniel swallows a witty response stuck on the tip of his tongue. "Besides, he asked very, uh, insistently to pair you two up. How could I have been in the right mind to say no to the future of wrestling wanting to take on one of the crowd favorites?"

Well. Fuck. Daniel would know how, being an absolute gem on the mic but nobody's asking, so he's shit out of luck in that department. And currently booked in match with a guy who apparently admires him. Same height and, what? Eight years younger? Daniel tries not to read it as a sign for retirement.

They settle on a cage match and, surely, it means essentially throwing Max into the deep end from day one but his eyes shine eagerly and he goes on a tangent, dissects the match step by step as if he's been running with the FWF for as long as Daniel did. Ten fucking years, thank you very much, and he knows damn well how to put on a show without some jobber — alright, sure, Daniel isn't supposed to squash him but still — running his mouth with a wrestling for dummies kind of talk. But Max didn't look like the same person who glowered at Daniel minutes before. He seems like someone who loved wrestling with all his being, lived and breathed the craft, came alive with the sound of the bell, the boos and cheers; the bruises and tore muscles, broken bones and bittersweet victories.

"We doing the spot?" Daniel interrupts but in good nature, stretching his shoulders one by one, wearing a lazy smile to hide his annoyance. He half expects Max to refuse, back out of it. Wouldn't blame him, really. "Top of the cage, before the bell."

"Of course," Max answers too quickly, voice croaky, his chin lifted high as if Daniel offended him. Doubted him on the spot; doubted his hunger to make a name in the biggest wrestling federation known in the world. "It's a cage match after all. We have to make a good show."

We, huh? Perhaps the kid knows a thing or two.

"Yeah, cool," Daniel tugs his Beats on, cues a special playlist in a pre-match ritual. "See ya in the ring, Super Maxy-Max."

He walks off to warm up as the show begins but not before noticing a sudden blush on Max's pale cheeks, his chest puffing with a response that he breathes out in a language Daniel can't place. He bounces around backstage, high-fives miserable-looking Charles on his way from the ring. His chest is streaked with red lines. Poor guy took the brunt of Fernando's chops. Daniel could still hear his music playing as he celebrated a win accompanied by heartfelt boos of the crowd. Eh, fucking marks.

Daniel makes a point of not acknowledging Max at gorilla position, adjusting his shockingly colourful ring gear instead, slinging the FWF championship belt over his shoulder. It's childish to use it as a shield and Daniel is the nicest guy to his core, cross his heart, but the wrestling biz is cutthroat. And even Max's music is not on par with the standarts when it plays after Daniel finished making his way to the ring, greeted the crowd and sent the shirt he wore flying towards the grabby hands of his faithful fans. They are, truly so, booing loudly along with the generic entrance song, letting Max feel their disdain from the start, not letting him mistake it as a warm welcome. Not against their favorite Badger.

And yet, Max's face remains blank. The way he slowly removes his own t-shirt and neatly leaves it on the side of the ring pulls a chuckle out of Daniel. God, he's so spectacularly green.

Simply on the grounds of Daniel being a fucking face, he reaches his hand out after the bell dings and the metal cage above them descends agonizingly slow, inviting Max to lock up; a class act. Max knocks his hand away, expression scrunched in a mask of disgust. Daniel takes every assumption he made back; they're about to have a grand ol' time.

Max's style is a bit choppy but he doesn't strike Daniel as a high-flying type. Mostly old school moves, orchestrated to a precision not every rookie has. They exchange a couple of blows and Daniel takes initiative for the time being. He ducks away from a spear and Max hits the turnbuckle shoulder first, turning with a grimace of pain. He doesn't oversell, a great fucking sign for them both, and Daniel bounces off the ropes to deliver a flying knee to the side of Max's jaw. He takes it magnificently, falling to his knees completely unbalanced.

Maybe, just maybe, he owes Christian the benefit of the doubt. At very least, their styles are a match, perfect opposites to elevate each other's strengths. Max's brawler against Daniel's technician; a study of contrasts between the brawn and the showmanship.

He ends up putting Max in a figure-four smack dab in the middle of the ring so he can’t reach for the ropes to save himself and, shit, he sells so wonderfully that Daniel's mind wanders. There is something in the bend of Max's neck, in the strength of his entire figure — built but limber, writhing under Daniel's scrutiny, completely at his mercy. The give Max's body begs to be molded in his hands and, suddenly, a startlingly clear image surfaces at the back of Daniel's mind. Tag matches turning into tag titles, titles turning into a betrayal to feed the storyline; and then the redemption arc.

Then, a reunion. Full circle. Squared circle.

It's breathtaking, in truth. The easy push and pull, the synergy buzzing in the air between them, Max struggling out of the submission hold to pin Daniel's shoulders against the mat. A brash fucking attempt for a pin; he kicks out at one and rolls some distance away, eyeing Max to add to the dramatic of their unlikely clash.

The crowd goes wild. Daniel stretches his lips in a smile, sharp like the jagged edges of the glass they pour out for hardcore matches. He catches himself thinking that he'd go for one with Max. Maybe just to see those lips bloodied, returning his smile tenfold.

Time's almost out, the referee lets them know discreetly. Daniel lets Max turn the tide, drive him head first into the wall of the cage, hitting through the ropes with a clang. Daniel's head gets beaten against the turnbuckle, his back slammed against the mat with a perfectly executed chokeslam and the crowd gasps with sympathy. Max busies himself with prying the gate of the cage open, acting the heel part eerily well as Daniel catches his breath, sells Max's beating appropriately, without an overkill.

He pulls Daniel outside of the cage, outside the ring, dragging his face against the barricade towards the commentator table. Max makes sure to interact with the crows, give them an opportunity to hate him, call him names. Something akin to adoration swells in Daniel's chest; he doesn't understand where it's coming from and then Max clotheslines him hard and he crumbles onto the floor lined with thin mats.

Good move, that. Suits the set up right.

Max almost throws a middle finger to the crowd and starts climbing the side of the cage with a single intent, much to the horror of the arena. Yeah, real fucking marks but Daniel wouldn't have it any other way. He counts to thirty in his head, sprawled flat on his back near the commentator table, having one of their tiny screens jammed in his midsection before by Max's enthusiastic efforts. He counts and follows the lines of Max's body, the broadness of his shoulders and the paleness of his skin. It makes Daniel's mind wander anew, in a direction it shouldn't, not in the middle of a high-risk match.

The crowd gets antsy, urging Daniel to get the hell up, and so he does, Max halfway up on the cage, unknowing, with a sinister plan of his own. His muscles protest but it's hardly anything new. Daniel manages to catch up to Max in a flurry of adrenaline-addled motion, reaching up to hook his hand in Max's ridiculous shorts. Max looks down at him, expression purely shocked to satisfy the crowd and Daniel counts again as he tugs. Once, twice.

It's never pleasant, plummeting down and straight onto the commentator table. It breaks with a horrible sound under Max's back and he lies there, unmoving, the commentators standing not far away, still doing their job. Daniel hangs onto the slippery metal of the cage, listening to the crowd yelling and frothing at the mouth for him to do the thing they all came here for. He raises one hand and pumps his fists in the air twice, eliciting a reaction that makes his mind go into an overdrive.

He takes a breath, bending his elbow for his signature move and jumps.

The Ricciardo Special lands beautifully on Max's midsection, making him yelp and seize from the pain. Daniel is so used to hitting the ground this way but the calmness that comes hand in hand with the fall is forever unsettling. Max breathes raggedly underneath him, limbs akimbo and his eyes half-shut, eyelashes fanning his splotched cheeks. From Daniel's point of view he looks like someone gave him a fuck of a lifetime. The sight makes Daniel's heart skip.

In the wreckage at the ringside, the perpetual hunger Daniel left unsated stirs impatiently, awakening from a famished slumber.

Max's body under his own feels like it belongs; feels like a missing piece finally fitting. It hits Daniel like a freight train, the all-encompassing normalcy in the midst of controlled chaos.

He squeezes Max's wrist twice in a silent question, their limbs tangled together on the broken bits of the table. Max's fingers twitch against his hold — yes, I'm okay.

And the show goes on towards the long-awaited climax.

It takes Daniel thirty seconds to peel Max off the floor by the back of his neck, squeezing tight and roughly hauling him back inside the cage, rolling them both into the ring. It's a whole ordeal, his body exhausted and Max matches him there, too, playing the beaten to the pulp heel as if he's been doing it since he learned how to walk. Daniel drags him to the middle of the mat again, admiring the pliancy with which Max follows. There's a persistent ringing in his ears and an electric shock wracks through him when he gets his hand's on parts of Max's body he managed not yet to touch, no resistance as he bends him in half, Daniel's palm sliding against the sweaty skin under Max's knees. The referee appears next to them, slamming his palm against the mat.

One. Two.

And when Max eats the pin like he's supposed to, like they've settled in the pre-match booking with Christian, Max's prominent mouth pressed into a thin line making Daniel think who the fuck does this jobber think he is, all the sounds of the packed arena rush into his ears as the bell rings and the cage finally lifts, freeing them. The crowd erupts and Daniel rolls over onto his back, gulping air, Max's arm pinned under him, sweaty skin sticking together. His music hits like a fucking tornado; another win sequred under his belt but all Daniel can muster at that moment is to turn his head against the stiffness in his neck, catching Max's gaze already trained on him. Mouth open, chest rising up and falling so rapidly Daniel seems to lose his breath again.

Or perhaps it's the shine in Max's eyes, their color clear-blue like the spotlights above. Daniel finds it hard to look away and he desperately needs to drag himself to his feet, clutch the championship belt to his chest, an assurance of his stature; something solid to hang on to.

Max asked to wrestle him first. Daniel grasps at the foreign feeling blooming behind his ribcage.

His win doesn't feel like one. Not with Max suddenly so close to claiming a space for himself, claiming what's his and he's so damned good it scares Daniel momentarily. But the fear dissipates as quickly as the pain does when someone lands a chair shot just the right way. A satisfying kind of pain. With a slight twitch of his mouth, Max is the first to move away, further to the ropes. The skin of his back is angry red, the mess of moles speckled with blood where the impact from the commentator table scratched and tore into his flesh.

Max rolls off the ring and limps up the ramp, holding his ribs gingerly. He turns when the referee raises Daniel's hand and he manages to straighten the other one with belt in it, showing it off as you still got it echoes in a thousand voices. For the first time he doesn't revel in the outpour of love and adoration, the crowd clapping and chanting his name. He doesn't look them over with a smile and his chest still feels caged, much like he and Max were moments ago, locked in what wasn't just a match.

Something snaps; something ends. Daniel feels the shift clear, like the Earth tilting on its axis taking him with it and leaving Max standing still, his scuffed, golden boots rooted firmly to the ground. The weight of the championship belt turns laden, drags Daniel deep into the uncharted waters as he stares Max down, challenging and unabashed, blood thrumming with adrenaline. The bundled tightness in his chest lingers and lingers and lingers.

A corner of Max's mouth quirks up, eyes crinkling; no real malice behind them, just an answer to a soundless call, a promise for more.

Daniel feels like he's the one plummeting down from the cage, from the top of a tower he built in his own name, not with stone but with blood, sweat and tears. Max follows suit, crashing into him without reservation, raw talent and blunt force, the soft edges of him breaking through skin and bone going straight for the heart; straight for the pin.

The count follows, inescapably.

In his mind, Daniel doesn't kick out.

#vicsy writes #maxiel #waves hands vaguelly #this is very poorly put together and i haven't written so deliriously in months #serves me right to remember that wrestling is my first love #daniel/max #maxiel fic #daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #f1 rpf #333 #apologies for all the fucking mistakes I surely missed #i just need to get it all out #wrestling au

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f1crecs · 10 months

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Fic Rec List - Daniel/Max (Angst)

if your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let me know and I will remove it immediately, no questions asked. I have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop me a message🤍

have a pairing you want me to do next? please read the faqs and then head to my inbox.

don’t forget to give the authors featured on this list some love in the form of kudos, bookmarks, and comments!

I can't believe the Queen of Maxiel Angst herself is requesting angst from me! I hope you enjoy these, bb. 🤭

if the sky falls by @mysticalbreadcollective | M | 2.4k Max and Daniel are caught in a building collapse. Bread's angst is always fantastic, and especially here, with an edge of immediate danger. Bread does emotion so well. It was hard to choose just one Bread fic to recommend for this list!

'He sounds- scared. Which yeah, no shit, Daniel’s scared too. But hearing Max scared makes this real. Makes it all real. Max never gets scared. Ever. He gets quietly angry, he gets even, but he never gets scared like this, and it just highlights how much trouble they’re actually in.'

if tomorrow never comes by @toastandvegemite | T | 2.8k (content tags: suicidal thoughts) This is a very well written, sensitively handled fic. This author's writing is always incredibly engaging, but this story is on another level - I don't think I breathed once during my first read. No one does emotion quite like this. Stunning.

'Still smiling, still losing, still trying desperately to be something he can't even see clearly.'

nsfw: Figure Me Sweetly by @love-leah | E | 5k The pining here is just exquisite. This is a real masterclass in Max's very specific brand of suffering - wanting so much, so intensely, but not allowing himself to have. Achey and gorgeous. This one will stay with you long after you've finished reading!

'Daniel has no idea if that's true. When they were teammates, he knew exactly how much Max could drink before he got stupid in a way only Daniel and Max thought was fun; how much more before Daniel had to cut him off or he would puke. Now it’s been a fucking year since he got drunk with Max.'

nsfw: in that iron ground by @lilyrizzy | E | 41.8k (content tags: parental death, grief) Daniel and Max travel to Daniel's hometown for a funeral. This is a beautifully written story. The emotions are visceral - I remember having to take a few laps of my home after reading this for the first time. It's simply stunning.

'Max is squinting at Daniel in the bright sunlight. How the fuck is the sun still shining? Shouldn’t thunder be sounding, shouldn’t lightning be flashing across the sky? Shouldn’t something look different in Daniel’s world, now that there is one less person in it?.'

so can we make the most out of no time? and And my hopes, they are high by @wolfiemcwolferson | M / E | 96k This whole series is well worth a read; the Daniel and Max section sets the tone beautifully. The dialogue and relationship development here is second to none. Daniel and Max go through a lot, but it only makes their ending that more satisfying. I love these fics so much, and I think you will, too.

'Max’s smile is so small you would miss it if you weren’t looking for it, but Daniel is. Daniel is looking for it.'

#maxiel #daniel/max #f1 rpf #pairing:daniel/max #driver:daniel #driver:max

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blamemma · 10 months

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25 maxiel? 👀

"Hey! Mate! Look what Red Bull made for me!" Daniel bellows at Scotty when they cross paths down the Melbourne walk. He pulls the cap off his head, thrusts it forward towards him. "Look," he points. "It's got a 3!"

His marketing guy and assistant for the weekend, Chris, had delivered it to him this morning, a box of about 10 of them to get him through the weekend. He didn't know it was something Red Bull were going to be doing but when he saw them -- when he put it atop his head -- when he looked in the mirror -- when he showed Blake -- this was it, he was back at Red Bull.

Scotty beams at him, takes the cap out of his hands, and then pulls Daniel under his arm, rustling his knuckles through the shortening curls.

"This is cool mate," Scotty responds, still holding the cap in his hand. "Same sponsors once again. Brothers in teams."

"Damn right! You can have that one - wear it if you want." Daniel says. "I've got plenty of them."

"Ahhh I can't DR-" Scotty begins, but Daniel snatches it out of Scotty's hands, knocks Scotty's Carhartt cap off his head and places the new Red Bull '3' cap on to replace it.

He's already put 2 aside for Isaac and Isabella, knowing they'd be too big for their small heads, but wanting them to be part of whatever moment this was, 2 for his mum and dad also. Now he'd given one to Scotty, and Blake would probably want one as well. He's only got 4 more to get him through the weekend. And sometimes, when fans gave him really nice gifts, or tell him emotional stories, he feels inclined to pass one onto them as well. He'll need to be careful now though.

"It looks good on you." Daniel offers. Scotty smiles at him, all teeth.

"Not as good as you look back in navy mate." Scotty offers.

"Yeah feels fucking good!" Daniel responds before they both turn their attention back towards the adoring crowd surrounding them, cheers of 'Daniel' ringing out, even though other drivers are starting to make their way through. Daniel steals one last glance at Scotty, catches the '3' glimmering in the light, and feels content.

Hours later, and Daniel lets himself settle. Lets himself sit down and breath. He's spent the day being dragged everywhere, a plethora of interviews, a sketch video for some TikTok comedians, hundreds of photos with fans. He knew his first race back would be intense, knew that it being in Australia would make it ten times worse.

But throughout it all, he hasn't stopped smiling. The only thing he's felt throughout is pain in his cheeks. A never-ending smile at being back, at being loved, at people being happy to see him, and constantly asking what his future plans are. He doesn't know yet, but the idea that people want him back, care about where he's heading is good, it's positive, he holds it close.

He watches Max walking through the paddock, heading towards where he's sat outside. Watches as Max's own face lights up when he spots Daniel.

"Daniel!" He says, "I have been looking for you. But you have been very busy of course!" Max pulls out a chair next to Daniel and then hands a hat over to him.

"Scotty asked me to give this back to you. He said he couldn't wear it all day because he was going to Aston Martin." Max continues to hold out the hat, but Daniel doesn't move, so Max moves it forward ever so slightly. A nudge. Daniel finally takes it, begrudingly.

"They are very cool. It is nice to see your number on Red Bull things again. Did you ask Christian for them?"

Daniel squeezes his eyes shut, cringes at the suggestion he asked for something like this. For a cap that distinguishes something old now. . It feels humiliating. Clutching the discarded hat in his hands, he wants to rip his own one that he's currently wearing off as well.

Of course Scotty didn't want to wear it.

He's not driver number 3.

He's not a driver.

He's not someone Scotty can support.

He's not a driver.

He laughs to himself a little. At the thought that--

“Wow. Guess that hurts…” Daniel says, almost laughs through it, clutches the cap close to his chest, almost ripping it apart in his hands. The days been overly emotional and everything is bubbling to the surface now, tears pooling in his eyes. He turns his body, faces Max more, but doesn't look at him, simply attempting to shield his face from any passers by who may want to take a photo of him.

“What?” Max asks, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, squeezing, staring intently at Daniel, the frame of his nose, the pout of his lips, framed in golden sunlight. Max thinks it's the being here, Melbourne, the paddock, Red Bull, that hurts. The being there, but not being there.

“This." Daniel says, throwing his arms up in the air, the cap going flying into Ferrari's neighbouring unit. "Pining after someone, giving them everything, giving your best mate a cap they don't even feel proud enough to wear...loving someone who doesn’t love you…” Daniel responds. He doesn't know why he suddenly lets all out, why he tells Max of all people but it spills out so quickly, he can't take it back.

Max takes a sharp intake of breath, drops his hand suddenly from Daniel's shoulder.

"I do not think it is very fair of you to make these kind of statements Daniel." Max whispers, knows he can't say what he needs to say right now, not when there have been cameras constantly pointed at Daniel all day, people with microphones following him around, hoping for a soundbite of anything.

Daniel turns, looks at Max with a puzzled look, his eyebrow furrowed. Max sees in his peripheral vision Daniel picking at his fingernails now, and Max's arm lurches forward, yanking Daniel's hand away forcibly. He hates it when he does that. They stare at each other for a long time. Max almost feels like he can see the cogs in Daniel's brain turning at overtime. He's blinking slowly, staring at Max, his face shallow. Max waits, waits, waits for Daniel to say something, but like always, he stays mute, ignores the obvious answer.

"I think maybe Daniel, you are always looking for something more. I don't know what you think is missing. But maybe you should work it out. A lot of the answers are staring you right in the face and have been for a long time." Max says, standing up and leaving Daniel to wallow.

Years ago, he would have stayed, comforted Daniel, talked through their shit and then grabbed a beer together afterwards.

Max is over those days. He knows what he wants. Always has. It's up to Daniel now.

#daniel/scotty #daniel/max #dr #mv #sj #this is like the most obvious way this prompt could have gone i feel sorry for not being inventive #xx #also sorry this is kinda sad #my writing

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f1-disaster-bi · 17 days

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Based on 9-1-1 rewatch:

"Still saying this isn't a curse?" Pierre rolled his eyes as he glanced across the cockpit of the truck at his partner. Lando was watching him, eyebrow raised and judging him as they were heading back to the station. They were seven hours in to a twenty-four hour shift that had started with their new probie, Oscar, mentioning the dreaded Q word and sparking chaos across the team. Pierre had laughed at Lando and Daniel's panic because curses were ridiculous. The idea that a probie saying the word quiet had caused them to have non-stop calls. As the hours ticked by, Pierre had watched Daniel and Lando go down a rabbit hole of tricks and google searches on how to break the jinx while their Captain, Sebastian shared looks and ignored the conversation as best he could while managing some of the weirdest calls they had had in the last year. "We had to catch a turkey, Lan, I'd hardly call that a curse", Pierre laughed, knocking his boot against Lando's as his partner huffed. Pierre knew the huff was just a joke. His boyfriend wasn't really annoyed with him, they were just all tired and on edge, waiting to see if they'd finally get back to the station and be able to eat before the bell went again. "A violent turkey", Lando muttered, stretching his legs out to rest on the chair across from him and beside Pierre. A little smile appeared on his face when Pierre wrapped a hand around his ankle. "At least it didn't try bite your nuts", Daniel snorted, making them all chuckle a little because they had all seen the turkey when it had gunned for Daniel's crotch before they caught it. "As if I would let anything near my crotch, unlike you Mr Got-Caught-In-The-Bunk-Room", Lando teased, knocking his elbow against Daniel's side as the other glared at him. "How is Detective Verstappen these days, Daniel? I've seen less of him since that day", Sebastian teased, turning from his seat as Lewis. in the drivers seat, snickered beside him. "Fuck you both", Daniel glared before he turned to look at Lando and Pierre accusingly, "And its not like you two can talk with the way you snuck off to the showers the other day"

Lando had the decency to blush, but Pierre just grinned.

"I have a five year old at home, and at least we were off the clock", Pierre defend as he rubbed his thumb across the patch of skin that showed above Lando’s boots.

"I preferred it when you guys were arguing about the curse and not discussing all the places you've been inappropriate in our house", Sebastian sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, making them all laugh.

"You can't say shit man", Lewis teased as he started to back into the truck bay, Ocon waving him after hoping out of the ambulance, "I don't think there's an inch of this place that Sargeant Button has thoroughly explored with you"

The admission about the Captian and his husband had them whistling (Daniel), cackling (Lando and Lewis) and making "oooooh" sounds (Pierre), or at least they were until they were almost about to jump out of the truck only for the alarm to start blaring again as they sighed and Lewis fired the truck back up.

It was going to be a long shift.

#911 inspired au #pando #pierre/lando #lando/pierre #sebson #sebastian/jenson #jenson/sebastian #maxiel #max/daniel #daniel/max

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gggreengoblin · 6 months

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Do You Want To See My Elephant?

2.176 words. Summary:: Max, who was visiting West Australia, met a handsome local man named Daniel. He couldn't say no when Daniel asked him if he wanted to see his elephant.

If you had asked Max a few weeks before whether picking up a guy at a club would be on the menu during his West Australia vacation, he would probably say 'maybe, but I don't think so’. But on the second day he stayed in Perth, he was sitting in the bar of a nightclub with Daniel, a handsome local man, who was wearing a shirt with loud prints and a thick silver chain around his neck.

The club was awesome. It had a cool vibe and good music. Or it was just the alcohol in his blood talking, taking over his brain, and making everything seem better than it actually was. Or was it just Daniel’s effect on him? This Daniel, the stranger with kind eyes and curly hair.

Max was a couple of glasses deep already. His head was a little lighter and all he wanted was to giggle at everything this handsome man said. He didn’t mind, though. He would giggle forever as long as this stranger looked at him like that. Like he was the most interesting person in the room.

Even in this horrible lighting, Max could see how Daniel’s dark eyes lit up while he spoke. And he, of course, noticed the dimples in Daniel’s cheeks. They would pop out every time this man smiled or laughed or just moved his facial muscles in general. And the tattoos on his arms and the back of his hands—God, all of that made him feel so thirsty. So he kept sipping his cocktail, the one Daniel bought for him. Sweet, sour, and bitter at the same time.

Daniel leaned in. Max could smell his perfume—manly but not overpowering. Honestly, he just smelled expensive, elegant, and alluring. His breath tickled Max’s right earlobe. That deadly combination made his already light-headed head spin.

“So, how long will you be here?” Daniel said, directly into Max’s ear. His deep, smooth voice and his accent almost made Max's eyes roll into the back of his head.

“Here as in West Australia? Around two weeks, but I am also staying in Perth for two more days," he whisper-shouted back at Daniel. He took that opportunity to steal a sniff at his neck. He couldn't get enough of this perfume.

“Cool." Daniel nodded and took a small gulp of his beer. "Max, do you want to see my elephant?”

Max almost choked on his saliva. How could he say something like that so casually? And also what a weird phrasing? Who would call their thing an elephant? It was so weird. Or was it just how Australians flirt? Max didn’t know for sure, but he would be stupid to pass on this opportunity. “Of course, it would be lovely, Daniel,” he said, almost screaming so Daniel could hear him. He hoped he said it loud and clear.

"Yeah?" There was a smirk on Daniel’s face. His eyes were bright and playful, with a mischievous gleam in them.

“Yes.” Max nodded. He looked around, trying to find the general direction to the bathroom. The club was crowded, but he hoped the bathroom was clean and empty so he could get on his knees for this man. He was already salivating from the anticipation. How he wanted to do it dirty, sloppy, and slow. And he would do his best to make it a good show for Daniel. "Now?”

“Nah.”

Oh, that broke Max's heart.

“I can’t ditch my friends tonight.” He pointed at a group of men sitting on a long sofa. One of them waved his hand to Daniel, telling him to hurry up and come back to the group. “How about tomorrow?”

“Okay.”

“Don’t pout, Maxy.” He gave Max’s thigh a squeeze with his free hand. His rings were pressing into Max’s muscles through his jeans. “Give me your phone.”

Max pulled his phone from his jeans' pocket. He entered his PIN code and gave the device to Daniel.

“Text me your hotel address. Does tomorrow morning sound good to you? Can I pick you up at 8.30?” Daniel gave him his phone back. He saved his number in Max’s phone book as Daniel Ric with an elephant emoji.

Max couldn’t hide his smile. This guy was one of a kind. Max had never met someone like him before.

“Yes. But why in the morning? Why can’t we do it in the evening?” It wouldn’t go well if Max woke up with a bad hangover. Most of the time, he couldn’t get it up if he did not feel his 100%, and he did not want that to happen while he was with Daniel. So he put his cocktail down and asked the bartender for a bottle of water.

“Don’t forget to text me, yeah?” Daniel stood up from his stool. He leaned in and kissed Max’s cheek. The scratch of his beard made Max feel hot all over. “Trust me, it would be better if we do it in the morning.” He said it with a wink before he went back to his friend.

..............................................................................................................

To say he was excited was an understatement. Max went back to his hotel right after Daniel left. He did not touch any alcohol after that, only his bottled water.

When he entered his hotel room, he made a beeline straight into his bathroom. He took a long, hot shower and shaved his hair down there. It had been a while, and he was not prepared. He thanked his lucky star, or whatever it was, that he packed a spare shaving razor. It was gross to shave his face with the same razor he used to shave his balls and ass. It could cause cross-contamination, right? He didn’t know for sure, but it was just plain wrong.

He lay down in his bed with his phone plugged in beside his pillow. He made sure to activate a six a.m. alarm. He needed to wake up early in the morning to douche, making sure everything was squeaky clean.

He ate a light breakfast and texted Daniel his address. Not long after that, Daniel told him to meet him in the hotel's underground parking lot. Max was a little bit surprised by that. He thought they would meet in the hotel lobby and did it in his room.

Danie stood in the middle of the parking lot. Dressed in a black cotton jacket zipped up until his throat, a pair of olive-colored fabric shorts, and black hiking boots. He also wore a curve-brimmed trucker cap that had the same color as his shorts, and a pair of black sunglasses were perched upon the beak of his hat. He approached Max and kissed his cheek. "Morning, Maxy Max." He led Max to his parked black Rubicon by his waist. He opened the passenger door for Max.

It took Max by surprise. This Daniel was different from the one he met the night before. He didn't complain, though. He was just not expecting these changes. The guy in the club was metrosexual, adorned with a chain around his neck, rings, a bracelet on his wrist, and a loud print shirt. But this guy was just ruggedly handsome, he thought. Max couldn't look away.

He didn't know why, but for a second, he assumed the car would smell bad, like cigarettes and maybe beer too. It was a wrong assumption, it smelled nice, like coffee, and faintly he could smell Daniel’s perfume from the night before.

Daniel took one of the paper cups from the cup holder and gave it to Max. “I got you a cup of coffee, americano. If it is too bitter for you, I have some sugar.” He unzipped his jacket halfway and took out two sachets of packed sugar from his left breast pocket.

Max accepted the coffee and the sugar. He took a small sip. The coffee was really bitter. He did his best to hide his grimace, even though he almost gagged from the unpleasant taste. He was not a fan of coffee, especially if it wasn't ice cold, but he tried to be polite.

They started driving, leaving Max's hotel. Max was impressed by Daniel’s driving ability. The way he could control that bulky car so smoothly. He was zoning out, looking out of the window, until he felt Daniel's gaze on him during a red light stop.

“Ahh– You don't like black coffee. Just add the sugar, mate. Or put it down if you don't like it,” Daniel said before taking a big sip from his own cup.

No, not a chance, he wanted to drink this coffee with Daniel as if they were on a coffee date. Max put the coffee back in the cup holder and poured two sachets of sugar into his coffee. At least if the coffee was sweet, he wouldn't be so nauseous, right? Was it the right way to make coffee more bearable?

Daniel drove until they left the city center area. They entered an employee parking lot at a recreation park. Max could see the roller coaster track from there. Daniel turned off the car's engine and jumped out of the car. He opened Max's door.

"Where are we?" Max said while stepping out of the car. He left his half-empty cup in the cup holder.

"You will see."

They entered the recreation park, which was still closed, by the back door. Daniel scanned his ID card to open the locked steel door. He took off his jacket, revealing his zoo uniform with his name embroidered on the left side of his chest.

There were several staff and janitors. They were doing their morning chores, like cleaning and checking the equipment. Almost all of them greeted Daniel, but they all looked curiously at Max.

Daniel took him to a parked golf cart. He pulled a bunch of keys from his shorts' pocket, searching for the right one to drive this little thing. He turned the cart on and patted the seat beside him. "Come on. We need to hurry!"

Max looked around the park. It had a lot of green vegetation that was different from the plants outside, animal statues, and safari-themed rides. "So, we're going to see a real elephant?"

"Yes, I promised you I would show you my elephant, didn't I?" Daniel said while pointing to the word 'zoo' in his uniform, right above his name. "Technically, the elephants—we have four, by the way—are mine too because my parents own this recreation park and zoo."

“Oh.” Yeah, it was all he could think about, just 'Oh'. It was a huge letdown, really. It was the first time he met someone who owned a theme park and zoo, but it was also the first time he got ready for nothing. All the grooming he did was for nothing. And the excitement he felt went down the drain.

A meme Victoria sent him popped up in Max’s head. It was a video of two men in a boat, and one of them said, 'I hope you're hungry, for nothing'. Yes, that was how he felt at the moment. He was thirsty for nothing. So he stood there, hollow-eyed, in front of a golf cart. He couldn't believe he shaved his ass and balls for nothing.

Daniel folded his arms on top of the cart's steering wheel. "'Oh'? Just 'oh'? Are you disappointed, Max?" He looked up at Max with eyes that he couldn't read. His brown, wide cow eyes were too expressive, showing too many emotions at the same time, and it made Max confused.

"I'm not really disappointed. Of course I'm happy, I can see elephants up close and without any other visitors, which is a rare opportunity, but I thought we would do something else.”

"Something else? Like?" He smiled. That gorgeous, wide smile that got Max hooked in the first place.

“You know what I mean, Daniel. Seeing elephant. Your elephant. Turned out it was a false advertisement.” Max knew he was beet red. He felt how his blood rushed into his cheeks and ears. Saying what he felt was a hard thing to do, especially when he had to admit what he wanted to Daniel, a stranger who he thought was asking him out for a hookup.

“This is the first time someone is not impressed by my freaking zoo. I have to make it up to you then.”

Max sat on the cart, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Yeah. You better show me the whole damn zoo.” He still couldn't look at Daniel.

“We have a massive collection of exotic birds too. Are peacocks interesting enough for you?”

"Stop with the innuendo, please." Max covered his face with his hands.

"It is not an innuendo, Maxy. We do have peacocks. You just have a dirty mind."

..........................................................................................................................

By the time he left Perth, Max knew all about animals' facts and a promise from a charming local man that he would join him during his days off from the zoo.

#maxiel #f1 rpf #maxiel fic #my fic #tourist!Max #zoo owner!Daniel #daniel/max

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