Chapter Text
“Okay I’ve filled in all the information, now you just need to login with your Instagram account,” Lando said, handing Oscar’s phone back to him. The aussie typed his email and password into the space provided, then hit next.
A screen popped up informing him that his Raya application was complete and now awaiting approval.
“How long will it take?” Oscar asked, showing Lando the screen.
“Dunno,” Lando shrugged, “mine took like a week but it could take months or you might even be rejected. I’ve referred you though so that should help.”
Like most debatably bad choices in Oscar’s life recently, joining the dating site Raya had been Lando’s idea.
Sure, Oscar had been complaining for the past few weeks about how hard organising dates and hookups had become since joining F1 but the subsequent persuading and eventual signing up had been entirely Lando’s doing.
He didn’t expect much to come of it but, he had promised the brit he would be open minded and at least give it a chance.
…
Oscar got approved almost exactly a week later. He was just finishing in the shower when the notification came through.
Wearing nothing but a towel and with his mop of hair still dripping wet, he plopped himself on his bed and opened the app, paid the membership fee and began setting up his profile.
He wrote a short bio then selected a few pictures from his Instagram. One of him in a tailored suit, one from his racing and few more casual ones. Following Lando’s suggestion he also added what could only be described as a thirst trap, a shirtless photo from one of his many photographed gym sessions that, until now, had never seen the light of day.
The app also required Oscar to choose a song that would accompany his carousel of pictures. He hadn’t anticipated this step so thought for a moment before picking some generic EDM track. He figured it was a good enough match, relaxed, unserious but still a bit of fun, and he could always change it later once he’d had some more time to think about it.
Once happy, he clicked continue and moved onto the next stage. Setting preferences.
The first step was to choose between the networking or dating mode. Oscar selected dating.
The second step was to choose his sexual preferences and for an instinctual, self-preserving moment Oscar’s thumb twitched towards the option for women. He took a deep breath. There was a reason he’d signed up for Raya over other, less protected dating sites. This app was exclusive, private, and supposedly safer.
After calming his racing heart and mentally assuring himself he’d be okay, Oscar clicked the option for men only.
As he explored the app he found the layout was very similar to dating apps he’d used before, with the classic swipe-match-message model.
There was also a map to find people close by. That was, if they wanted to be found. Oscar decided to keep his own location private for the time being but considered how useful the option could be if he was at a hotspot like Sass’ cafe or Jimmyz and looking for a quick hookup.
For now though he decided to keep it simple and swiped through a few profiles.
Although Monaco probably had the highest density of Raya users on the planet he still took his time diligently reading and exploring each person's bio, even checking their instagram if they seemed particularly interesting.
He was probably only four swipes deep, when he stumbled onto the profile of someone he recognised.
There was no doubt who it belonged to. That was kind of the point of Raya. It was impossible to catfish.
Max, 26, Formula 1 Driver.
His picture carousel was rather comically accompanied by the song Super Max! by the Pitstop Boys and, as much as Oscar found the choice abysmally disappointing, he supposed if anyone had the right to be that far up their own arse it was Max.
Similar to his own profile, Max’s pictures included a couple casual shots, a few of him in his race suit, and one in black-tie. Furthermore -just like Oscar’s own profile- there were also a few images that definitely couldn't be found on his public socials and Oscar couldn’t fight whatever morbid curiosity possessed him to take a closer look.
He rarely saw Max shirtless. Unlike George, the dutchman didn’t post shirtless pictures on instagram.
In the one that particularly caught his eye, Max was half naked and sweating, standing in low light, the shadows accentuating the curve of his muscles, the band of his Calvin Klein underwear peeking out from under a pair of shorts that hung low on his waist.
Oscar noted that Max had an almost chubbiness about him. He was still well toned of course but you could almost forget with the thin layer of softness that lay over top.
Still, he didn’t dare analyse why the sight made his heart pound and his stomach flip.
Then it suddenly dawned on him. Until now he’d acknowledged stumbling across Max’s profile the same way one would give a friendly smile or a quick hello to a coworker you’d bumped into at the shops.
Only this wasn’t the shops…
This was the equivalent of stumbling upon said coworker mid makeout session with another man in the alleyway behind a gay bar whilst you too were in the process of finding a secluded place to hook up.
All that was to say one of two things was true.
- Max was into men
Or
- Max had accidentally clicked the wrong option.
Now if Oscar chose to believe that option one was the truth then he should just keep scrolling. Proverbially dip back into the club and deny ever finding Max in that back alley.
However, if option two was true, and Max had made a mistake, Oscar supposed the correct and friendly thing to do was to warn him about it…
…and Oscar was nothing if not friendly.
But how to contact him? He didn’t know Max well enough to have his private phone number, and using the driver group chat was out of the question. He supposed he could send a private message to Max’s Instagram but he was fairly certain Max didn’t run the account himself and Oscar didn’t want to risk accidentally outing him to his social media manager.
In the end he decided the best option was to simply contact Max through Raya and thankfully there was an option to send a message without needing to match first. He just needed to pay for it.
Oscar wrote and rewrote the message over and over. He didn’t want to sound judgmental or presumptuous, just wanted Max to be aware of his potential mistake. He eventually settled on:
Oscar: Hey Max, just letting you know your profile’s set to dating men. Not judging just letting you know in case it was a mistake 👍🏻
The next thing he knew Max had matched with him and was responding.
Max : Well thats one way 2 come out 2 a coworker :P
Max: also shit first impression btw.
Oscar buried his face in his hands. Stupidly he hadn’t considered that.
He debated claiming he was still figuring out the filtering, that he’d selected the wrong settings himself, but it was obviously a lie so, in the end, he just replied with:
Oscar : 👍🏻
Oscar: also not a first impression…
Max: lol
Max: Thx for ur concern but im aware 😉
Oscar practically launched his phone across the room then buried his head under his pillow. He knew he should’ve just dipped back into the club whilst he had the chance.
…
Oscar was by no means insecure in his sexuality but he hardly felt the need to shout it from the rooftops.
Although he was sure many would support him being the first openly gay current F1 driver, he did not desire the extra attention such a moniker would attract. In fact, if he could go his whole career without the public ever finding out, he’d consider himself very lucky indeed. And, based on Max’s general dislike of the press and social media, he was sure the dutchman felt the same way.
Max didn’t mention their message exchange when they next saw each other during the Silverstone race weekend, which was perfect actually because Oscar didn’t want or need to talk about it either.
All the drivers were on the back of the parade truck, huddled under umbrellas below the drizzling Silverstone sky. Oscar was trying to listen to Logan telling him about the fishing trip he’d been on during the downtime but, as hard as he tried, he couldn’t help but overhear the childlike bickering of Max and Lando a few paces away.
“It’s all about the bread!”
“It can’t be I’m telling you, because otherwise an ice-cream sandwich wouldn’t count either.”
“Oscar back me up here!” Lando whined striding over to the aussie and tugging on his arm like a petulant child calling on their favourite parent to settle a sibling dispute. Oscar offered a shrug and apologetic half-smile to Logan then wandered over to the squabbling half-belgians.
“What’s the problem?” He asked pointedly.
“Is a hotdog a sandwich or taco?” Lando provided.
“Sandwich” Oscar responded without missing a beat because- well it was, and anyone who thought otherwise was an absolute moron.
“You’re wrong!” Max replied quite crossly.
See? Moron…
“Hotdogs are obviously sandwiches!” Oscar repeated, crossing his arms.
“Why?” Max stabbed.
Oscar tutted and rolled his eyes then started his explanation ad lib. “Assuming we use the cube rule of food, a taco must have starch on the bottom and two sides, however I would argue a hotdog bun has no bottom.” He used his hands to help gesture the next part. “It’s actually just two sides stuck together at one end. A top and bottom attached like a hinge if you will and therefore a sandwich.”
“Couldn’t have said it better myself!” Lando plauded, clapping Oscar on the back whilst revelling like he’d been the one to pull off the epic mic drop moment.
Max however was having none of it. “But what if you take a slice of bread and place the hot dog inside? Then you have a continuous curve forming sides and bottom.”
“You’re correct! By my logic that would be a taco but is it still a hotdog?”
“Some people would argue the sausage alone is a hotdog.” Max countered, teetering on the edge of arrogance.
“Ah! But that’s not a taco.” Oscar pointed out, unable to hide his smug grin.
“Well it’s not a sandwich either!” Max retorted.
“Guys!” Lando shouted, trying to mediate. Max and Oscar both ignored him in favour of continuing their bickering.
…
The dates Oscar arranged on Raya were weird. Transactional was perhaps the best way to describe them.
He’d match with someone, exchange no more than four messages before being prompted to arrange a meetup, attend a date that lasted less than an hour with conversation as meaningless as a grid penalty for the driver starting twentieth, then hook up at whoever’s apartment was closer. Most of the time he was showered and in bed alone by midnight.
It was on one of those particular evenings, after a date that lasted half an hour and a hookup that lasted even less, that Oscar got an unexpected message from Max -On Raya, of course
Max: Hey I know it’s a bit late but I wanted to thank you for keeping this all secret
Oscar found the thanks hardly necessary, and made sure to tell Max so.
Oscar : No worries! I wouldnt dare say anything in public u know how the media are
Oscar: Thanks for keeping my secret too. I reckon I would have died of embarrassment if youd tried to speak to me about it in person 😅
Max: Ill keep that in mind for when you start in front of me 😂
Oscar couldn’t help acknowledge Max’s use of the word when rather than if.
Oscar: You do that and Ill straightline you into turn one!
Max : Lol
Max: All bark no bite!
Oscar: I can bite!!
As soon as the message sent Oscar realised how easily his response could be taken out of context and unfortunately so did Max.
Max: sure u can but thats a little forward dont u think? ;)
Oscar: You are so self absorbed! I did NOT mean it like that! 😂
Max: If u say so…XD
Oscar: Youre shameless!
Max: Best way to be
Max: Well good luck tomorrow 😛
Oscar: Thx
Oscar was well aware of how easy it was for Max to rile him up but at the same time he couldn’t help but be in awe of the three-time world champion. He’d proven himself over and over despite the media and haters who said he would never make it because he was too aggressive or too emotional, or not emotional enough.
Despite his father. Despite being thrust into the limelight at such an impossibly young age, he’d made it.
Max had changed everyone’s opinion without changing a single thing about himself, he’d done it by demonstrating on track that he deserved respect, that he was formidable, that he wouldn’t yield. And Oscar couldn’t help but have admiration for that. Admiration and maybe a hint of jealousy.
Oscar also appreciated the way the Dutchman had grown into himself, both in his confidence and looks.
And if Max had done it, maybe there was also hope for him too.