Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The headaches stop when Daniel goes back to Red Bull. 

He doesn’t actually notice it. Not at first. 

Which is silly. He has been having these godforsaken headaches for years. He had stopped mentioning them to his trainer after he’d gotten a lecture about bondbreaking for the umpteenth time. The amount of arguments he'd had with Michael where he had had to explain that he had never bonded with a little so there was no possible way it could be bondbreaking syndrome, and instead he is certain he has a brain tumour, or something, was too many to count. 

So, he would’ve thought that he’d notice the sudden absence of the headaches, and the irritability, and the low mood, but he feebly puts it off to the joy of rejoining the team that feels like an old family to him. Well, that, and he’s too busy being anxious about Max to actually pay attention to it. 

He wasn’t sure what to expect, coming back. He had hoped that the Red Bull team would always open their arms to him if he came back, and they did, but he had been unsure how things were going to go with Max. 

It’s not like he hadn’t seen or interacted with Max in the last years. Of course he had. But it had been… different. To before. 

Despite what people and various documentaries might believe, he looks back on his time as Max’s teammate with nothing but fondness. He’d be lying to himself if he tried to pretend that he wasn’t threatened by Max initially. He isn’t interested in the whole hyper masculine fragile ego shit, anyway, so he can admit it: Max was a threat to him, specifically to his career. He still had pimples back then and Daniel couldn’t figure out if he was really shy or way too confident, but he was fast. Very fast, and only getting faster as he became more and more experienced. It was also clear that he was the new golden boy of Red Bull. Daniel’s not stupid. Christian Horner might be, with the way he seemed to think he was convincing when he used to tell Daniel they weren’t favouring Max over him. 

He wanted to hate the kid. He should have hated the kid who was ruining the career path he had had planned out in his head for a decade, but it’s not in his nature to hate, and, well…

He kinda loved him. 

It’s surprising, even to himself, just how fast his fake laughs at Max’s bad, awkwardly timed jokes turned into genuine, uncontrollable giggles. How his irritation with Max’s blunt, tactless comments to the media turned into a strange fondness and protectiveness. How his admitted jealousy and frustration at Max’s racecraft and seemingly God-given ability to extract pace out of a car turned into admiration and pride. 

He got to watch Max grow. He can’t help but feel that he played a big part in his doing that - growing up, flowering, becoming better. He feels mushy and silly for thinking it, but he’s proud of Max and also proud of himself for contributing to the way Max has evolved as a person compared to what he was when they first became teammates. He supposes it’s in his nature, being a caregiver. He can’t help but want to nurture him, even if Max is a neutral. 

But Daniel had left Red Bull, and well, things had never been the same between them. Daniel had gone on to suffer for years and Max had gone on to become a world champion and they passed each other in the paddock with a smile and a ‘hello,’ and that was that. Occasionally they would do an interview together, and it felt a bit like coming home, just for a moment, when Max would make a stupid joke and Daniel would catch himself laughing at it even though he wasn’t always sure it was that funny. Seeing the way Max would light up watching his reaction would make the headaches ease, just a little, and that was-

Well, that was suspicious, but Daniel doesn’t like to overanalyse things, which is why he has been trying to ignore how awkward things have been ever since he rejoined the team. 

Max just isn’t the same. He doesn’t laugh as much. Not with Daniel, anyway. He doesn’t ask to hang out after factory days or find Daniel on media days when he has free time, like he used to do. He doesn’t really seem to want to be around Daniel, and the only time he is around him, he is noticeably quiet.

It reminds Daniel a little of how Max used to go quiet around him when they were teammates, only that had been peaceful. Daniel had always figured Max just had his moments where he needed peace, where he could relax with zero expectations on him. Daniel was someone who he could do that with, just the same as he was someone who Max could be loud and silly with when he wants that instead. 

Apparently not anymore, though. 

Daniel puts it down to ego, at first. Max is a world champion now. Daniel tells himself Max probably thinks lowly of him: his former teammate, who Max won the alpha stand off against, running away to a different team with his tail between his legs, only to slink back when he failed just to be a fucking reserve driver. A replacement for Max, rather than his competition.

Daniel knows it’s mostly his own insecurity talking. The lack of headaches has given him some clarity of mind, after all.

But, well, when he tries to hang out with Max for the third time and is met with a, “sorry, but I’m busy that day” when Daniel knows for a fact Max had been on iRacing the two last times he said that, his composure starts to crumble. 

They’re at the factory, another boring day, and it had actually started out okay that morning with him cracking a joke or two that made Max laugh during a meeting even though the rest of the room shot them sharp looks and eye rolls. Daniel had been feeling a warm hum, something he has come to realise is because his caregiver instincts are being satisfied. It’s normal for him to get that feeling when he’s, you know, actually helping someone. They don’t have to be little, although it definitely makes it easier to satisfy his needs. It’s not really typical for his caregiver side to come alive when he’s just joking around with someone. 

He probably should’ve thought harder about that. 

But then Max had rejected his request to hang out, and Daniel had felt his hurt rising, which manifested in annoyance for him, as it tends to do. He tries to fight past it and be professional - if they aren’t friends anymore, they certainly are still coworkers, and no doubt Max has the power to have Daniel fired if he so pleases - but then Max starts giving him the cold shoulder. 

He notices at lunch. He wanders into the cafe on the factory campus only to see Max standing near the food service area looking like an NPC in an old video game: arms by his sides, posture stiff, staring ahead of him at nothing in particular. He looks awkward, like a kid on his first day of school, no friends yet and not knowing where to sit during recess. 

It's kind of weird, and makes Daniel feel a little sad, so he swallows his annoyance and pastes a well-practiced grin on his face as he walks up to his old teammate. 

“Hey Maxy-Max. You eaten yet?”

Max flinches at the sound of Daniel’s voice. He slowly turns, facing Daniel with eyes wide and round.

He purses his lips and shakes his head back and forth. 

“Well, neither have I. Wanna join me?”

Max stares at him, face blank but for a slight furrow to his brows. The seconds tick by, the silence hanging heavy between them. Daniel blinks a few times, finds himself frowning as well. Before he can speak again Max turns around and walks away, disappearing down a hallway. 

Daniel's annoyance slingshots right back toward him and he huffs as he heads to the cafe alone. 

Is he just worth shit to Max now? Not even good enough to eat lunch with?

He doesn’t get time to ruminate on the subject. Before he can blink, he’s in another meeting. Max is there too, of course, and is silent throughout. The one time he’s asked for an opinion he just shrugs. 

When the meeting finishes, Daniel catches Max at the door. As people are clearing out around them, he puts a hand on Max's shoulder to stop him from disappearing. He quickly retracts it when Max jumps and whirls around to him. 

“Hey, uh, are we good?” When Max gives him the same blank stare and nothing else, Daniel pushes on. “Like, could we have a chat? Real quick? Cause I feel like we’re not good and I’d like to, like, talk about that. You know?”

Max turns and runs. 

Like, he literally runs out of the door. 

Daniel hears a chuckle behind him. 

“Mate, don’t even worry about it.” He turns to see one of the engineers who had been in the meeting. He’s pushing some of the chairs back under the table, forming perfectly neat rows once more. “He always does this.”

Daniel glances from the open doorway back to the engineer.

“This?” he repeats. 

“Gets into one of these moods. Happens every now and then. We're used to it. Guy can be totally unpredictable. Can’t wait to give all the criticism in the world when you don’t want it but as soon as you ask him for feedback, he just shuts down. I’ve been calling it the silent tantrum.” The guy lets out a mocking laugh. Daniel doesn’t actually know his name. He’s new to the team, at least since Daniel rejoined, and he clearly doesn’t like Max. “I wouldn’t take it personally, just let him go off and be a baby. And don’t bother reporting it to anyone higher up. You’ll get shot down. He’s got this place wrapped around his finger, I swear.”

Daniel gets the sense that this guy has been waiting for the opportunity to complain about Max. He nods, says, "Cheers, mate," and gives a quick wave as he ducks through the door and down the hallway, the same direction that Max ran in. 

Fuck it, he thinks. He’s getting this shit sorted. If this is how it’s going to be, if Max has truly become someone who is too good for his team, too good for him, he wants to know so that he can make the decision to steer clear of him wherever he can. He’s not wasting his time and energy on this shit. This isn’t the Max that Daniel knows. The Max that Daniel knows doesn’t have enemies within the team, doesn’t throw tantrums - not in work meetings - and doesn’t ignore people like he’s ignoring Daniel. 

He asks a few people if they’ve seen Max, but they shrug. He’s not in any of the places Daniel thinks to check along the way. 

He’s still fumbling about in his head, trying to reconcile this new version of Max with the one he is so very fond of, when he hears it. 

A sniffle. 

It comes from behind a cleaner's room door, right as Daniel passes it. 

He pauses in the middle of the hall. He’s deep in the back area of the factory, clinically white walls echoing every noise that sounds, and- there it is again, another sniffle, clear as day. 

Alarm bells go off in Daniel’s mind. 

He doesn’t know how he knows. It often happens like this. Something sets off his instincts - probably something he can’t even see, hormones or some pheromone in the air that neutrals can’t sense - and he just knows that there is a little in need of his help. 

His instincts have never been wrong before. There’s a little in the closet and Daniel sighs because he realises confronting Max will just have to wait. This is more important, right now. 

He looks around, the halls empty and quiet, before gently knocking on the door. 

“Hey,” he calls. “Is everything okay in there?”

Another sniffle is the only answer he receives. 

“Is it okay if I come in? I can give you a cuddle. I am so good at giving cuddles.” A long silence. No sniffles. “Or I can help you find your caregiver.”

He hears a shuffling, but nothing else. Daniel looks around once more, but finding no one around, he figures he’ll just have to act. 

“I’m going to come in, okay? I’ll open the door really slowly, promise.”

His heart is racing as he turns the handle. He wants to help. That’s all that matters. He will do a good job at this. He has to. 

He slips inside the room right as the voice sounds. 

“It’s okay, Daniel. It’s just me.”

Daniel flinches. The heavy door pulls itself closed behind him, thrusting the tiny room into darkness, but Daniel still saw. 

Besides, he knows that voice very well. 

He flicks the lights on. The harsh fluorescents confirm that he’s not hallucinating. 

Max is sitting in the corner, wedged between a wet floor sign and a cleaning trolley. He’s got his knees pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them. 

His face is red, and blotchy. His eyes look glassy, and the tip of his nose is pink. 

Daniel has never seen Max crying before. He’s seen a stray happy tear, but not this.

“Uh, sorry.” Daniel rubs at the back of his neck, suddenly acutely aware of how little room there is in the closet as he nearly knocks over a mop hanging on a hook on the wall. “I thought…”

Max wipes his nose on his forearm. 

“I know. Just me.”

“Are you… okay?”

Daniel feels dumb for asking. It is very clear that Max is not okay. 

“I am fine,” Max answers. “I just have a headache.” 

Daniel nods, looking around the small room as if there is anything to see. He takes a breath, as well as a moment to think.

Now is probably a terrible time to confront Max the way he had been planning to. Max is staring at him like he wishes Daniel weren’t here and Daniel is reeling because he was sure that there must’ve been a little in distress, his instincts have never been wrong, but that doesn’t matter now. He’s face to face with Max and he had been on a mission. He might as well see it through. 

“Well, I was actually looking for you. I just wanted to check if we are okay. I feel like things haven’t been the same between us, and you seem to not… like me anymore?”

Max frowns at him and says, “Daniel, what are you talking about? Of course I like you.”

He unwraps his arms from around his legs and, in one swift motion, pushes himself up from the ground. Daniel feels something heavy in his head when they’re at the same eye level, like the world is off balance, just a touch.  

“You worry too much,” Max says. He wipes at his face. “Come on, let’s get out of here before someone thinks that we came in here to make out or something.”

Daniel doesn’t feel like laughing, but the cheeky comment is so familiar that he clings to it. 

“If we are going to get caught, we might as well double down and make it as uncomfortable as possible for everyone. Should I mess up my hair a little to really sell it?”

Max grins. “I’ll undo my fly as well.”

Daniel follows him out of the closet. He feels the heaviness lifting as they walk through the hall side by side. 

He made Max smile. Properly. They didn’t actually talk like he wanted to, and Max was clearly upset about something, but he finds he doesn't mind so much. He feels like everything will be okay, somehow. 

Daniel flies upright in his bed, sheets tangled around him as he pants. It’s dark, but the light from his alarm clock is bright in his eyes.

It’s two in the morning. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, eyes wide as his mind reels. “I am a fucking idiot.” 

Daniel doesn’t see Max until the next week. Another factory day. He gets there early and waits by the entrance like a hawk. 

The moment Max arrives, he tails him as though he’s his hitman. Only he’s a terrible one, since Max sees him straight away, flashing him a little smile in greeting. 

He waits for the opportune moment, that being one when no one is within hearing distance, before he grabs Max by the elbow, tugging him into an empty office with a door open. He’s not sure whose it is. It doesn’t matter. 

“Daniel?” Max questions as he's yanked inside. 

“Are you a little?”

Max's expression doesn't change when Daniel blurts the words at him.

He answers, “Yeah.”

Then he shrugs. 

Like Daniel’s entire world doesn’t tilt on its axis with the movement. Like this information was obvious, or innocuous, and shouldn’t completely blow Daniel’s mind the way it does. 

“What the fuck? Since when.”

“Since I was sixteen, obviously, Daniel.”

“What the fuck? How- I knew for sure something was off, but- I didn’t- how?” He watches Max’s blank face. Thinks about how much time he has spent in this exact position, alone with Max, and never figured it out. It just can’t be true. “I have never, ever seen you regressed. Ever.”

Max, infuriatingly, shrugs again. “Yes, you have.”

His face is still void of expression, but Daniel doesn’t miss the tinge of pink across his cheekbones that thankfully proves he is indeed capable of human emotion. 

“As if. When?” 

“Heaps. It doesn’t happen all of the time but, especially when we were teammates, it would happen a lot.”

Daniel stares at him. He has to lean against the nearest wall because he feels dizzy. 

“I would’ve noticed,” he weakly argues. “There is no way I wouldn’t have noticed.”

Save for last week, never had Daniel’s caregiver instinct ever been set off by or around Max. There is just no way Max could’ve regressed around him. He would’ve noticed. 

Daniel can’t be a failure at this, too. 

“No one notices,” Max replies, “which is good. I am quiet when I regress.”

“What do you mean, quiet?”

“As in, I do not speak, Daniel.”

“What? You’re mute?”

Max shrugs. Daniel wants to hold him by his shoulders to stop him ever doing it again. 

Daniel thinks about the meeting last week. The guy who mentioned Max’s "silent tantrums." That time at lunch. That time after Baku. That time after Daniel’s Monaco win, when Daniel thought Max was mad at him for winning. Malaysia, when he passed out and didn’t say a word to anyone afterwards for a whole day. 

“What the fuck? How did I never… Fuck!”

“It isn’t a big deal.” Max smiles, eyes sparkling a little as though Daniel having a mental breakdown in front of him is very amusing. “I prefer it that people do not notice. It’s a hassle to deal with. Don’t be upset.”

“Upset? Max, I’m freaking the fuck out right now. You’re telling me this whole time you have been- Is GP your caregiver or something?” 

Max lets out an abrupt cackle. 

“No, GP is not my Caregiver, Daniel. What the fuck?” Max grins, shaking his head. “I don’t know why you are freaking out. Like I said, it is not a big deal. It’s all handled, so just relax. I am not upset that you didn’t notice. I didn’t want you to.”

Daniel has to lean back against the doorframe behind him. Max makes an uncomfortable amount of eye contact, like he’s daring Daniel to be the one to look away. His cheeks are still pink. 

“I don’t understand. Do people know? Oh god, who knows?” 

Max frowns.

“Christian knows, obviously. But I don’t talk about it. It’s not a secret, but there’s a reason I keep it to myself - people make a big deal about it, like you are right now. I would prefer you not know if you are going to get all fussy and be silly about it.”

Daniel blows out a slow breath and nods. 

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to like, intrude, or whatever. It’s your business, I guess. I just… it bothers me that I could’ve been- You know, I’m a- And I could help you regress, if you-”

“It’s fine.” Max finally breaks eye contact, looking down at his hands. “I don’t need help regressing. I have set times when I let myself do that, and it is anyway really annoying when it does happen. I prefer to not have it be a public thing. Of course, it works fine if it does happen because people just think I’m being quiet and then I can pull myself out of it easier. It is just annoying to deal with and I don’t need anyone else worrying about it as well.”

Daniel stares at him. 

“There is so much wrong with what you just said. I cannot even-”

“Daniel, please, don’t fucking do this, okay?” Max glares at him, brows slanted. His smile has disappeared. “Can you not treat me differently over this? This is why I do not tell people. Seriously, just… Be cool.”

Daniel wants to laugh. How can he treat Max differently if they don’t even interact anymore?

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. That’s- yep, that’s cool. I’ll be cool. Sorry, my mind is a little bit blown over this. Just give me a bit and I will be the fucking coolest. I promise.”

Max laughs, relaxing, but he looks awkward. 

“Can I-” He points at the open doorway. “I gotta go to a meeting.”

“Yeah,” Daniel quickly moves away from the door, even though he has to be at the same meeting. “Yeah, yeah, sorry.” 

“You aren’t going to be weird about this, right?” Max asks before he goes. His eyes are big and round and blue, and Daniel feels something tugging at his heart. Something that aches. 

“Yeah,” he replies, soft. “No, I won’t be weird. You’re still Max. Nothing has changed. I just- I didn’t know, that’s all.”

Max hums, nods, and then walks out of the door. 

Daniel takes a deep breath, forcing his muscles to untense as he exhales. 

He goes to the meeting and he listens. He nods in the right places and gives his feedback when they ask for it. He eats lunch with some of the team and then he spends some time in the simulator. 

He gets home that evening and collapses onto his bed. 

He screams into his pillow until his head feels light.

All of this time... he never knew. 

Max is a little. Max regresses - apparently frequently, or at least he did when they were teammates. Max is mute when he’s little. Max doesn’t tell anyone, but it isn’t a secret. 

Daniel should have noticed. He should have known. He could have- but Max wouldn’t have wanted him- but maybe if he had-

It doesn’t matter. Max made himself clear. He doesn’t want anything to change. He wants Daniel to ‘be cool’ about it. 

Daniel can do that. He has to, for Max. 

Daniel cannot be cool about this. 

He tries. Really, he does. 

The season continues and Max wins, seemingly easily though Daniel knows it isn’t always the case from what goes on in the garage. They do PR together and spend time at the factory together, and it’s fine, at least for a few race weekends. Things have actually improved, a little. Even if Max insisted that nothing was different, he seems warmer somehow. He makes more jokes, talks to Daniel a little more. Daniel hates how much he wants more, wants things to be like how they were before, especially now that he knows the truth about Max, but he tries his best to keep a facade of indifference, per Max’s request. 

He pretends not to notice when Max suddenly goes quiet toward the end of a media day. When they’re at the factory and he stands at the edge of the cafeteria for a while, alone, looking around, before wandering off. When they’re just finishing filming some dumb quiz thing for Red Bull’s social media and Max immediately excuses himself the second the cameras stop rolling, putting distance between them as Daniel’s head buzzes with energy. They’d been laughing and joking, and Daniel knows Max feels it too - the connection between them, a caregiver and a little bonding. 

But Daniel doesn’t say or do anything because that’s what he said he’d do - he’d be cool. Max doesn’t want him to bring it up. 

But then Max has a bad day. 

He’s not sure what starts it. Max just seems to be in a bad mood right from the get-go. He barely speaks when he first arrives at the factory and Daniel thinks he may have regressed again, except Max does talk when he’s asked questions. His answers are clipped and snappy, and he doesn’t smile, but he talks.

So, not regressed then. But definitely not quite right. It isn’t really a problem. People just stay out of his way and that seems to work for everyone. 

Then they have a meeting after some simulator sessions and that one guy - the engineer who clearly has an issue with Maxm, the one who Daniel still has not learnt the name of - is there. 

Right at the end of the meeting when Max is complaining that something on the simulator isn’t matching what the car is like, the guy disagrees and says Max probably just misunderstood the simulator. 

“I think that I am the one who understands both the car and the sim, considering I drive both.”

The guy doesn’t take lightly to Max’s spiked tone. 

“You realise you’re not the only person on this team, right? We have plenty of people who have driven both. You’re the only one bringing up this particular feedback. ” He spits the word like it tastes bad. Max stares at him, gaze unwaveringly indifferent. 

“So, where are all of the people who drove it last Sunday, then? You know, in an actual race with nineteen other cars and not just around a test track for a few laps?” 

The whole room is quiet, but for the two. Max stares down the guy, who is scowling. 

“Right, this isn’t helpful.” They both turn to Daniel when he cuts in. Daniel looks at the engineer. “Can’t we just note what Max is saying and check if there is a correlation with the sim and the car? If there is something then it’s noted, if there isn’t then all good.”

The engineer squints at him. He nods, but rolls his eyes. Daniel looks to the head of the table, where the Chair of the meeting looks incredibly uncomfortable. They start to speak when he nods at them, but Max abruptly stands. His chair scrapes loudly on the linoleum floor.  

“I’m going to the bathroom,” he announces.

The door to the room shuts quietly behind him, but it feels like a slam to Daniel with the way it reverberates in his brain. 

He manages to last two seconds.

“I’ll go check on him.” 

It doesn’t take him long to catch up. Max is ducking into a break room and Daniel darts in after him. 

The room is thankfully empty, because Max sinks to the floor right by the door which Daniel firmly closes behind them. 

“Hey,” he says, voice soft as he squats down next to Max. Max has drawn his legs up, hugging his knees to his chest, just like that time in the closet. Daniel doesn't mean to do it, but his instincts take over and when he speaks next, his tone is one that he has never used on Max before. “Hey, you okay, buddy?”

He can hear Max breathing deeply, in through his nose, out through his mouth. He stares blankly ahead, but he nods. Daniel swallows.

“That guy is a jerk, okay? I’m sorry for stepping in like that, but don’t listen to him.”

He watches Max clasp his fingers together around his legs, his knuckles turning white.

“Max, hey. Hey, can you look at me?” Daniel gently puts a hand down on the ground next to Max’s ankle. He doesn’t touch, but he hovers near. 

Max glances up at him. He licks his lips, moves his mouth like he’s about to speak, but he closes it just as quickly.

Daniel’s instincts have never been wrong before. 

“Max, are you- are you going into headspace?”

There is a tiny moment, infinitesimally brief, where Max looks up into his eyes and Daniel sees it. His irises, blue and almost sparkling, gaze up into Daniel’s face and reflect something so open and vulnerable that it’s almost like Daniel can hear him calling to him, like he’s raising his arms out, wanting to be picked up, to be held close, told that everything will be okay, even though he hasn’t moved an inch, hasn't said a word. 

Then that moment passes. Max blinks and his eyes are ice. The corners of his lips turn downward and his hands fall to his sides to push himself up from the floor. Daniel nearly topples back to get out of his way, wobbling his way up to standing. Max has already rounded on him. 

“Don’t. You do not get to do this, Daniel, you fucking- you promised. You need to back the fuck off.”

Daniel raises his hands up, palms out. “Whoa. Calm down. I didn’t do anything. I just asked because-”

“You did though. All the time you keep doing this and it isn’t fair. I told you I don’t want this.”

“Keep doing what? I have no idea what you’re talking about, mate.”

“You keep doing your caregiver shit. You said you weren’t going to treat me different.”

Daniel lets his hands fall by his sides. He blinks, glances all around Max’s angered expression until he’s lost in it.

“Max, what the fuck? I haven’t- You haven’t even let me hang out with you, let alone done anything remotely close to providing care.” Max’s expression remains stubbornly closed off and Daniel feels himself starting to boil over. “You cannot seriously be telling me that I have done something wrong here. We don’t even talk anymore. Not really. Ever since I came back you’ve been distant. And I get it, whatever. We were just teammates and obviously we’re like- not that now, but I thought we were friends? God, I sound fucking pathetic but, like, c‘mon. You won’t be near me. How can you accuse me of doing anything without your consent when we aren’t even close anymore?” 

Max has the decency to look remorseful. He purses his lips and glances away. 

“It is because of your… you know, that I have to stay away.”

Daniel’s breath hitches. 

“What?” Max doesn’t answer, just glances up at him. “Max, I don’t know. Maybe I’m dumb. But I am gonna need you to spell this out for me, buddy.”

Max huffs, rolling his eyes like Daniel is a nuisance to him. “The caregiver stuff. It makes me drop, all the time. It’s very inconvenient, Daniel. It was already not great before you left but it is- it was obviously not too bad back then. But it is harder now for some reason. You are putting all your..." he pauses as he waves his hands around in the air, gesturing to Daniel, "...caregiver stuff out in the air and being all like you are, and it is very annoying. I can’t control it anymore.”

“Wait. Wait, wait. Just- just hold on. Are you saying the reason you have been avoiding me is because I’ve been putting you into headspace?”

Max puts his hands on his hips. 

“Yes, Daniel, that is what I just said.”

“Mate.” Daniel barks a laugh. “Are you for real? I thought you hated me, or had a massive world champion sized ego now, or something.” 

Max visibly softens. “I of course care about you very much, Daniel.”

Daniel’s wry smile drops. He swallows. 

“Max, I know it isn’t my business, but- I haven’t been doing anything. Not on purpose. I am just… me. If you are being forced to drop, it’s because your body and mind need you to.”

Max quickly shakes his head. 

“No. I have never had it like this before. I schedule time to do it specifically so this doesn’t happen. It was not a problem before and now that you are back it is.”

“Then you probably aren’t getting what your little side needs. You’re probably recognising a caregiver nearby and being forced to drop because you need better care. How old are you when you drop?”

Max shrugs. “I don’t know. What does it matter?”

“How can you not know?” Max frowns at him again. Daniel takes a deep breath. “What does your caregiver say?”

“I don’t have a caregiver.” 

Daniel had a feeling he was going to say that. 

“Well, that will be it then. Max, you need a caregiver. It’s, like, biology, mate. You probably have gone too long without one and that’s why you’re getting forced to drop. How long has it been?”

Max waves a dismissive hand. “Who cares? I had it all handled, and it was clearly not a problem the last ten years until now.”

Daniel looks up at the ceiling. His heart aches but he ignores it. He can’t be doing this. Max doesn’t want Daniel "being weird" about him being little. It’s not his place to tell Max that it’s a biological need to have a caregiver provide regular care and that there is no possible way Max can be healthy if he’s been regressing alone for... apparently ten years. It’s no wonder he has been forced to drop around Daniel since they got along so well previously and probably paired without even realising it. It is so incredibly fucked up that he is neglecting that side of himself, and Daniel has a feeling he knows who might have had an influence on his thinking that way, and he’s trying not to clench his fists in reaction to that thought, and-

The thought train in his mind suddenly derails.

“Holy fucking shit.”

His eyes are so wide it almost hurts as he slowly lowers his gaze back to a quizzical looking Max.  

“What?”

“Um… I think- Max, I think I know why you’ve been dropping.” 

“Okay. Why?”

“I… think we may have paired without even realising it. Yeah. So.” 

Max stares at him. 

“Is that possible?”

“Well, we are both kind of idiots, so yes. I would say it is.” Daniel notices the way his heart thrums when Max laughs, all fuzzy and warm, and he feels so, so blind. “Did you, like… when I left did you get headaches? Chest pain? Feel extra tired for a long time and have, like, mood swings and stuff occasionally?”

Max’s smile dims with each symptom Daniel lists. 

“Fuck.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, we are so dumb. Fuck.”

“So, we- oh.”

“Yes. Yes, I think we did. It… yeah, it explains so much. Like I had all of that. Thought it was because fucking Renault was so shit that it was causing me stress, and then I thought I just had like some disease or something, and then I kind of got used to it, and then I finally felt so much better when I came back to Red Bull. So, yeah, I feel really fucking stupid right now for never putting it together.”

Max laughs through his nose. “I guess it makes sense. I suppose that explains what’s happening now. So… what do we do about it?” 

“I guess we- I mean, it’s up to you to decide? We already clearly broke the bond, but like not properly hence the withdrawals. I think…" He pauses, looks Max up and down. There's a very logical next step, he realises, but it's also the one that Max is going to find the least agreeable, undoubtedly. "Okay, well you’re going to hate this, I think, but as long as I’m at Red Bull you’re going to be near me and you're probably going to keep getting forced to drop. I guess, if you would let me, I can help you regress properly. Like, on purpose and for a sustained period of time. That way you can stabilise again and have that control back again.”

When Max purses his lips and looks unimpressed, Daniel clears his throat and adds, "Or I guess I could just leave the team. That is the other option.”

Max pinches the bridge of his nose. “Daniel, what the fuck? That is not an option, don’t be stupid. I want you in the team.” He closes his eyes and laughs, but it sounds bitter. “If that wasn’t obvious already.” Daniel wants to say that it was, in fact, very not obvious. Instead he says nothing and Max sighs. “I don’t want- it’s nothing to do with you but I just don’t like dealing with all of that stuff, Daniel. It’s very irritating and gets in the way. I prefer to keep it managed, you know? Do you really think there’s no other option?”

Max looks up at him. Daniel feels his heart straining. Max’s eyes look so open, at that moment. Just like before. Like he trusts that whatever Daniel is about to say, it will be the truth. Like he knows that whatever Daniel says, whatever happens next, Max will be safe. 

Daniel doesn’t know how he never figured it out before. 

“I don’t know, Max. You can try and see. If you want to stay away, then… I understand. If we keep our distance, then we can break the bond properly and then we won’t be affected. It'll take... a couple of months probably where we won't be able to interact, and it'll suck, but, yeah.”

Daniel doesn’t say what he’s thinking: that it hurts him deep inside to imagine Max not regressing enough, maybe hurting himself by avoiding it, not getting the care he deserves- the care that Daniel should be giving to him. 

It hurts more to think Max doesn’t want that from Daniel.

That Max doesn’t want Daniel. 

“I will think about it,” Max says, ignorant to Daniel's pitiful internal spiralling. “Don’t do anything like that while I am. Thinking. No caregiver stuff. Please. I have to go.”

Daniel watches him turn and leave the room. 

The headache he gets immediately afterward is probably not a coincidence. 

Daniel tells himself that it’s a good thing that there is a two week break. No factory days for him and no race weekends. It’s what Max wants, clearly. And Daniel-

Daniel wants what Max wants, he realises. Not in the literal sense, since Max seems to be perfectly fine with the idea of the two of them never interacting again and Daniel is trying his best to pretend that doesn’t cut up his insides. But in the figurative sense. If something will make Max happy, then Daniel wants that.

It’s the bond. Obviously. He sees it clear as day now that he knows - and he feels so, so stupid for never seeing it. How did he never see it? 

Of course, Daniel knows it’s more than just that. Two people don’t just form a pseudo-pairing out of nowhere. For a caregiver to bond, they need to feel valued, trusted and desired around their chosen little. Likewise, the little must feel safe, understood, supported. The fact of the matter is that Daniel knows he and Max had something special, even before he knew that they were apparently paired. Knowing Max felt safe enough around him to reciprocate the pairing makes Daniel’s brain feel a little buzzy. It confirms that he is good. He is a good caregiver and he is good for Max, and that makes Daniel want the bond to strengthen, which has probably been inadvertently making him check on Max more often than he would have thought to, which is probably being noticed by Max who then in turn is having his little side catered to and so on and so forth.

But Max hasn’t contacted Daniel once since they last saw each other at the factory. Daniel’s head has been pounding and his mouth has been dry and he keeps waking up in the middle of the night with his heart racing and this innate need to check on Max to make sure he’s okay, that he’s safe, that he’s happy. 

Max, however, does not want to let Daniel in. That much is clear. Maybe he needs to, but if he wanted to, they wouldn’t even be in this situation. 

It irks Daniel. Partially because his own needs are not being met and there isn’t much he can do about it, and partially because it’s fucking irritatingly confusing to have Max tell him he cares but do literally nothing to show that it’s true. 

It only gets worse before it gets better, unfortunately. 

They finally come around to another race weekend. It’s been 17 days since Daniel last saw Max. He hasn’t been counting, but he can feel the time in between enough that he just knows. 

Max looks like shit - tired and paler than usual - which is comforting to Daniel’s petty side and devastating to his caregiver side. He is clearly not handling the little thing like he claimed he could. 

Max regresses at the end of media day. It’s not a good look when it happens in front of journalists while he's getting grilled about the latest controversy, when he purses his lips and shrugs his shoulders instead of answering the questions. Daniel checks reddit that night and there are three separate posts about it on the main page, reading into it and interpreting the motion as Max being a dick.

Daniel realises that he can see it in Max's eyes, when he drops. The cloudy, open, vulnerable expression that is so obvious now he knows what to look for.

He doesn’t know why or how he never noticed it before. 

The first practice day is a nightmare. Daniel is watching a tired and grumpy Max like a hawk, eyeing him from the back of the garage as he’s getting his suit on. He’s not even pretending to lie to himself: he’s fucking terrified when Max gets in the car. Max says he has this under control, but- well, evidently, he doesn’t and if something happened... If Max got hurt and Daniel knew...

Nothing happens. Not like that anyway. But Max is immediately on the radio before he even gets halfway through a lap and he’s not happy. He snaps at GP about the balance and he complains endlessly about the grip levels of the track and the garage feels more and more tense every time he pulls back into the pits. 

When Max climbs out of the car at the end of the first session, Daniel nearly has a heart attack when he doesn’t say a word, wondering if he'd dropped while driving. But they catch eyes when Max passes him, and Daniel can see he’s not regressed. His eyes are like steel, hard, closed off. He’s not regressed, just incredibly pissed off. 

The second session isn’t any better. Afterwards, everyone in the garage seems off and the media are murmuring about Max not getting enough sleep and Daniel is worried they actually aren’t wrong because he knows he himself has had shit sleep for two weeks now. 

But he doesn’t do anything. He can’t do anything. Max expressly told him to stay away. So, he stays away, but never too far. He hovers. He can’t help himself. He needs to see Max is okay, or at least, okay enough. He feels sick every time they’re separated and he can’t verify for himself that Max is doing alright, that he doesn’t need Daniel. If Max notices, which he probably does, he doesn’t say anything, but that’s probably because he hasn’t spoken to Daniel once. 

Qualifying is bad. Max places sixth when he botches his final lap attempt in Q3. He explodes on the radio. Daniel closes his eyes when he listens to the tirade through his headphones. He’s not saying anything really bad, just complaining about the shit car and the balance. But it won’t go over well with the media and it’s just going to mean Max is going to have the vultures descend, asking question after prying question until there’s nothing but blood and bone left. 

He watches Max storm through the garages and he knows he’s off to the pen and Daniel just wants to follow him, wants to pull him aside and calm him down. He’s a fucking nervous wreck waiting in the hospitality. He pulls the skin from his cuticles until he bleeds, chews his nails until he gets to the quick. 

Max looks like a zombie when he eventually gets back. The staff following with him disperse in an instant once they get inside, like they can’t get far enough away from him.

Daniel follows him. 

Max must sense it’s him - or maybe he feels the pull just like Daniel does - because he doesn’t even turn around when he gets to his driver's room, already halfway through his tirade as Daniel closes the door. 

“Don’t even fucking say anything, Daniel. It’s your fault that this is even happening. I asked you to stay away and-”

“Max, shut the fuck up.”

Max does a 180, eyes wide and mouth slack. Daniel’s voice is raised, and he can’t stop himself when he jabs an accusing finger forward, even though he notices the way Max flinches. 

“Don’t blame your shitty attitude on me. I didn’t do anything. You know that. I stayed away. The only reason I’m in this room is because I can feel that you need me to be. I just know, okay? So don’t fucking talk to me like that. You are clearly falling apart and your reaction is to push everyone away and it’s just- it fucking sucks, okay? It sucks for all of us when you treat us like we aren’t shit to you.”

Max closes his mouth, lips in a tight line. He doesn’t say a word.

Daniel knows he’s already regressed. He may have done so the moment Daniel told him to shut up. 

“Shit,” he breathes out. “Shit, Max. I’m-”

Max is trembling, ever so slightly. His eyes are wide and glossy and Daniel has never felt like such a monster in his entire life. 

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for yelling at you. That wasn’t- I shouldn't have done that. Can I-”

He steps forward, slowly. Max doesn’t move and he’s so tense that Daniel can feel it in his own muscles. 

“I’m going to give you a hug, okay? If- If you don’t want that, just step away. But it is totally okay to want that. I want to give you a hug so I can show you that everything is okay."

He telegraphs his movements before he makes them, arms raising up as though in slow motion. Max doesn’t look away, his gaze firmly locked onto Daniel’s, wide open and vulnerable. He’s rigid when Daniel’s arms slowly snake around him. Daniel can feel his breaths through his back, quick, shallow, jagged. Daniel doesn’t do anything more, doesn’t pull him into him even though he wants to, doesn’t rest his head on his shoulder even though it would tuck in perfectly. 

“It’s okay, Max,” he murmurs. He rubs his hand over the broad expanse of Max’s back, slow but firm, up and down. “I’m sorry.”

Daniel’s mind feels strangely quiet. He’s doing what he was meant to do. Being a caregiver. Looking after someone. He knows what to do, inherently, and it’s- 

It’s working. 

Max’s breaths slow. His chest brushes against Daniel’s when he inhales deeply, shakily. His hands stay by his sides. Daniel can’t see them but he knows they’re clenched into fists. 

Then, something changes. Daniel isn't even sure what, but it's like something clicks into place and Max melts into him. Daniel feels him sink, takes more of his weight as he leans into Daniel's hold. He doesn’t lift his arms, doesn’t hold Daniel back, but it’s like he needs Daniel there to help him stand. 

Daniel can do that. 

“There you go,” Daniel coos. “Perfect.” 

When Daniel pulls away, Max goes with him, just for a moment. Daniel tries to steady him as subtly as possible. He’s not entirely confident that one wrong move won’t make Max snap out of his headspace and back into fight mode. 

He watches, reluctantly pulling his hands back, as Max sways a little. He looks at Daniel. Their eyes are level, and yet it feels like Max is looking up at him. His eyes are round, and almost cloudy. 

Two things become immediately obvious to Daniel. 

First, Max has regressed deeper than Daniel has ever seen him do so before.

Second, Max hasn't been regressing properly. If a hug is all it took for him to slip a little further, then he hasn’t been fully allowing his headspace to take over. Maybe for a while.

Maybe ever. 

“How about we go home, yeah?” 

Max stares at him. He blinks, long and slow. 

“It’s been a long day. I’m super tired.” Daniel reaches up and stretches, exaggerating a yawn. “Hungry too.”

Max looks around the room, eyes owlish, then back to Daniel. 

“We can talk with the team later. Don't even worry your pretty head about it, okay?” 

Max blinks a few times and then his head tilts down in an almost imperceptible nod. 

Daniel wants to take his hand, but he fights the urge. Instead he walks to the door and ushers Max over when he stands there in the centre of the room looking confused and lost. 

“C’mon buddy.”

Max walks and he looks like Max. Grown up, one foot in front of the other, world champion Max. But Daniel sees someone else. Someone scared. Someone vulnerable. 

Someone who needs Daniel. 

They don’t talk when Max comes out of his headspace. It happens the instant they get into Max’s apartment.

It’s like the sound of the door closing behind them flips a switch, because Max stumbles, grabs his head and mutters a quiet, “Fuck,” to himself. He immediately pulls his phone from his pocket, making calls to the team, no doubt. 

Daniel slips quietly back out of the door. 

Max doesn’t contact him. 

The race goes well, all things considered, and Max comes second. He’s not happy about it, but Max isn’t happy anywhere that’s not the top step. 

Daniel decides to wait, but not very long. He texts Max the next day and hits him with the, ‘We need to talk.’

Because they do. 

He can’t do this anymore. 

He tells Max as much when he’s standing in Max’s apartment again, toe to toe. He watches Max’s expression, carefully blank, his eyes void of any emotion. He looks tired. 

“It’s just too much, Max. I’m sorry about what happened the other day. I know I didn’t have your permission to do any of that. And I’m sorry that I followed you. I should’ve stayed away, like you asked. But it’s hard for me. You have to understand that. It’s literally in my nature to comfort a little in distress and, well, whether you like it or not, that’s what you were in that moment.”

Max nods in a slow, decisive movement. 

“It’s okay,” he says. “I am not upset about what you did. I understand.”

Daniel sighs. Max isn’t going to say anything more on the matter, clearly. Whatever. 

“So, like I said, we need to talk about this. Properly. I think it’s fairly clear that you were struggling this week. You looked tired and unhappy.”

Max shrugs and says nothing. Daniel grits his teeth. 

“I’m just- Max, I can’t do this. It’s stressful. It hurts. I need you to tell me what you want because my caregiver side hurts for you.” 

“I already said. This is exactly what I have been saying, Daniel.”

Daniel urges himself to be patient and simultaneously imagines himself ripping Max’s head off his shoulders and punting it out of the window like he’s going for a 6-pointer.

When he feels better, he says, “What do you mean? Make it clear to me.”

Max makes a frustrated little sound. 

“I don’t want this at all, is what I mean. I do not want this annoying thing to be making such a problem for me. Or for you. I hate it. I don’t want it. I wish I could just- just stop it. But I can’t. So it is just…”

Daniel watches Max reaching up to rub at his eyes, which are red-veined, grey lined. 

“Just what, Max?” he prompts.

“We just have to stay separate.”

“That isn’t going to work.” Daniel keeps his voice carefully neutral. “Clearly. We just tried that.” 

“It’s only because we do things together. I will just ask the team to not put us in any PR shit.” 

“So that’s it, then?” Daniel widens his eyes, raises his brows. His self-control slips, just a little give. “You just- you just remove me from your life and that solves your problem? And what, you go on forever not regressing? Not looking after yourself? That’s your plan?”

Max’s hackles visibly rise. “I look after myself just fine. I don’t need you, or anyone else.”

Daniel feels the words like they’re shards of glass. He stands there, arms by his sides, and lets them slice him open. 

“Right. That’s great, Max.” 

“Don’t take it so personally, Daniel.”

“Are you serious? How could I not? I haven’t even gotten the chance to help you and you’re telling me I’m shit.”

“I didn’t say that. You are the one who just said how hard this is for you.” Max pinches the bridge of his nose. When he speaks his voice is strained. “This is exactly what I am avoiding. It was better when you didn’t know. You had to do all of this and now you’re blaming yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong, Daniel.”

Daniel furrows his brows. 

“Okay, well, you’ve lost me.” Max just huffs. “What, you’re saying that you are doing this for me?”

“Yes. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” Daniel parrots the word as sardonically as he can muster. “Nothing is obvious about any of this.”

“Look at what happened. It was all a mess. You should not have had to do any of that.”

“But that’s what I’m fucking saying, Max. I want to.”

Max's face shifts back into his usual, carefully blank expression.

“No, you don’t. You have to because of your caregiver side. You said so. But it is because of that that I cannot keep this controlled when I’m around you. So, the only way to not have it getting in the way is to keep apart.”

Daniel chews on the inside of his lip. The room is silent as Daniel carefully considers how to say what he desperately needs Max to understand. 

“Max, maybe I didn’t make this clear, so let me try again: I want to help you regress. When I said I can’t do this, I meant that I can’t keep watching you hurting when I know that I could be helping you. When I said it’s hard, I meant it’s hard for me to think about you not being happy. And I mean that as a friend. Not just a caregiver.”

“I am happy,” Max asserts. 

“Okay. Good. But, Max, your little side isn’t.” 

Max’s facade wavers. Daniel only catches it because he’s staring Max down, but he sees it in the way his brow twitches, his jaw clenches. 

“It’s not like that for me. I have it all handled. The way it was before was fine.” 

“I disagree. I think you don’t have shit handled, Max. You cannot tell me you have been regressing properly when you haven’t even had a caregiver to help you. It’s fucking biology, mate. You can say what you want; I don’t buy it. Sorry. I saw what happened the other day. You slipped deeper. Probably for the first time in a while, I’m guessing.”

Daniel knows Max knows he’s right, because he immediately flies into a rage. 

“So, what the fuck is your plan then, Daniel?” he spits out, hands gesturing wildly around him. “If you know so much about what I need, apparently? You are just going to sit here for an hour while I turn into a fucking child and then leave? You don’t even know what could happen.”

Daniel squints at him. 

“I don’t have a plan because at the moment I’m not your caregiver and you haven’t consented to anything. But, if you did, I wouldn’t mind what happens. I was your teammate for years. I’ve already seen the worst of you, mate.” 

Max stares at him incredulously, then drops his hands to his sides, his anger dissipating as quickly as it came. He shakes his head.

“You can’t say that. You don’t know what will happen. It could be the worst thing you’ve ever experienced.” 

Daniel’s heart clenches. 

“Unless you manage to brake check me while you’re regressed, somehow I don’t think that is possible, Maxy.” 

Max manages a little smile. Daniel’s brain buzzes, but he ignores it. He steps forward, Max looking up at him as Daniel puts a gentle hand down on one shoulder. 

“Max, let me try. Please? I know we don’t know what will happen. That’s okay. Let’s find out together."

Max licks his lips. “But what if…”

He trails off. Daniel frowns at him and pulls back his hand. 

“Here’s what is going to happen, okay? Tomorrow. 10 O’clock, I’m going to show up here and I’m going to spend all day here. I’m not going to force anything, and neither are you. I don’t need you to be anything but yourself. But you’re also not going to fight it, okay? If at any point you feel yourself dropping, you let it happen, and then the day continues. And then, when the day is over, we’ll talk about what happened and then we’ll make a new plan. Okay?”

Max swallows. 

“Fine,” he grits out. He sounds like he just agreed to an all day dentist appointment. 

“Max, you have to promise me, okay? No resisting. That’s the only thing. I don’t care if nothing happens. If we spend the whole day hanging out, playing video games, watching some TV, then that’s great. I miss hanging out with you anyway. But if you are going to drop, then you let it happen, okay? Promise.”

“Okay,” Max murmurs and when Daniel gives him a hard stare, he rolls his eyes. “I promise. But you have to promise that if you don’t like it, you will say and won’t do it again.” 

Daniel’s heart clenches once more. He has to take a deep breath before he can paste the happy-go-lucky smile on his face. 

“Of course, Max. I will be honest with you, always. I promise.”

“Okay. Can you- can you go now?”

Daniel scoffs, but Max looks desperate. 

“I guess it ain’t tomorrow yet. 10 O’clock, yeah?”

Max nods and starts literally pushing Daniel to the door. 

Daniel has to laugh to himself, even as his heart aches while he’s making the short walk back to his own apartment. He must be dropping after long enough in Daniel's presence. 

Daniel shouldn't leave him. Daniel should stay and look after him. But Max doesn't want that. Max doesn't want Daniel to be that for him. 

If only he knew just how much it hurts Daniel that Max doesn’t trust him. Daniel tries not to dwell on it. He’s determined to start tomorrow fresh. He is going to try his fucking hardest to help Max. He will do whatever it takes to help him feel safe enough to look after himself. 

He just hopes that he won’t get too hurt in the process.