Chapter Text
2 years to build it up and less than 2 months for them to ruin everything. The usually calm and collected Oscar Piastri was actively spiraling, a mix of anger and resentment has been threatening to boil over for months now.
Every ignored text, every call sent straight thru to voicemail, every race weekend being pushed to the side was enough to make Oscar’s sick to his stomach.
He’s not sure exactly when it started happening, when he started feeling a bit forgotten by the two people he cared about most. He wants to say it’s only been a recent feeling but deep down he knows it’s been ongoing for months and truthfully he has no right to complain, he knew what he was getting into when he agreed to join Max and Charles in whatever this mess of a relationship was.
Oscar had never meant to stay for this long, he knew this relationship was purely physical, both Max and Charles had made it perfectly clear from the beginning that they had no interest in adding a third person to their relationship. Oscar was fine with it, he knew his role, wait for the text with the time and their room number, get fucked into the mattress all night and leave before the sun comes up, he had his routine. Sometimes it was both of them, sometimes just one, he never asked questions. But Oscar had his rules, mainly for his own sake. No kissing, no pillow talk, no cuddling, no hickeys, no spending the night. If it was up to him he’d forgo the aftercare but he knew Charles and Max would never allow that.
It was good honestly, until 6 months in, the night Max kissed him for the first time, the same night Charles had asked him to spend the night. Maybe they were feeling generous, maybe they wanted to switch it up for the night, any questions Oscar may have had disappeared from his mind as soon as Max kissed him. It wasn’t desperate like Oscar had expected, it was slow.. almost reverent and Oscar felt like he was drowning.
They touched Oscar like he was something that was worth cherishing, like they hadn’t spent that last half a year passing him around like some toy to be shared whenever they had the free time. They took their time taking him apart, praises falling from their lips like it was something they meant, and Oscar leaned right into it. Every kiss, every praise, every touch more tender than the last. It was a feeling Oscar wasn’t used to. Being wanted? He was used to that, Max and Charles never made him question whether he was wanted or not. But fragile? Delicate? That was new, being touched like he would break into a million pieces if they held him too tight, that was a feeling Oscar wasn’t familiar with. Even if it was a one time thing, Oscar was gonna enjoy it, he’d let himself be led, let them take care of him just this once.
The problem was, it wasn’t just once, something in their dynamic shifted that night. Small changes at first, an extra tooth brush placed by the bathroom sink, an empty shelf in the fridge filled with all of Oscar’s favorite snacks, his favorite blankets and stuffed animals making their way over with every visit. It went on until Oscar found himself staying at Max and Charle’s place more than his own. There was no urgency in their movements anymore, just quiet nights and slow mornings. It was their new normal. Nice, domestic even.. and Oscar fell right into it.
Maybe it was the familiarity of it all that had Oscar convinced he meant something to the two of them. Maybe he mistook their kindness for feelings that went deeper than just a casual hookup, but here he was. Two years later and Oscar’s somehow worse off than when they started this whole relationship, if you can even call it a relationship.
He’s halfway thru the 2025 season, leading the championship for the first time in his life and Max and Charles? Oscar hasn’t seen them or spoken to them in months, aside from the friendly “hellos” passing between them. 2 months to be exact, and that was enough to make Oscar sick to his stomach. 2 months of missed calls and unanswered texts. 2 months of being avoided in the paddock and Oscar can feel himself spiraling. It hurt at first but Oscar tried to be understanding, Redbull was in shambles and Max had pretty much lost the last chance he had at winning his fifth world championship title, Charles was getting screwed by Ferrari’s strategist week after week, but Oscar could only be understanding for so long. The hurt he felt slowly twisted into something different, something uglier. Anger? Resentment? Annoyance? Oscar didn’t quite know, maybe it was all those emotions wrapped up into one.
The only thing keeping Oscar sane was the Hungarian grand prix or more importantly what comes after the Hungarian grand prix. Summer break, three weeks of uninterrupted silence and if Oscar was lucky for once in his life, this break would pull him out of whatever hell he’d found himself in. It’s only Saturday and Oscar is already counting down the hours until he’s on a plane ride back home.
Media day went by quickly, same questions, same answers, week after week. Free practice was again, nothing out of the ordinary. Oscar kept to himself a little more than usual, tucking himself away during the drivers parade, not stopping to talk with other drivers. Thankfully Lando was there to smooth over any questions anyone might have about his recent sour attitude, a simple “he’s just tired” was enough for them not to press any further.
Qualifying had gone smoothly, P3 for Lando, P2 for Oscar, Charles on pole. If it were any other day, Oscar would be happy for Charles, he knew how much the man needed this but seeing the Monegasque’s name above his on the time sheet made something in his stomach turn. He’d done his job for the day, he’d played nice, smiled when he need to, kept his answers quick for the press, tried not to notice the way Charles’ hand wrapped around his waist when they all posed for media but the way Charles kept his back towards him when he spoke to Lando was the final straw for Oscar.
He didn’t congratulate Charles, maybe it was petty, maybe it was warranted, he didn’t care anymore, he just wanted to be home. Oscar turned on his heel back to the Mclaren garage, not saying goodbye, not like they’d notice if he had. Max had caught him on his way back to hospitality, a half felt congratulations leaving his lips. Oscar didn’t stop, didn’t say a word, just kept his gaze straight ahead while he passed by the Dutchman. Some words followed him, something along the lines of “What the hell Piastri?.” He knew Max was pissed, Max hated being ignored, well that made two of them.
Oscar had finished his team duty’s, went thru the debrief without saying much of anything. He’d gone back to his drivers room, packed his bag and made his way out of the hospitality suite. It was dark outside, the Hungarian air was cool against his skin and for the first time all weekend Oscar felt like he could take a deep breath. He walked slowly to the front gate, enjoying the quiet of the paddock, it was nice, when it was empty he thought to himself. Until he saw them, two figures standing by the front gates. It was dark, but the way the navy blue and red outfits illuminated under the streetlights told Oscar all he needed to know. Max and Charles.. great.
He didn’t wanna do this. He didn’t wanna be talked to or talked at. He kept his head down, hoping the pair would spare him, but Oscar was never the type to get lucky. “Are you just gonna keep ignoring us or what? You completely ignored me after qualifying and you didn’t even congratulate Charles after his pole” Max finally piped up. Oscar could tell by the tone in his voice he was serious. He stopped in his tracks, a little huff of a laugh leaving his mouth as he turned back to stare at the couple. “I’m just returning the favor” Oscar said, he didn’t want to argue, he didn’t even wanna be here in front of them right now. Oscar can see the way Charles drops his gaze to the ground, the way Max stiffens at the tone of his voice. The weight of his words resting heavy in their minds. He doesn’t elaborate, he doesn’t need to.
“Good luck tomorrow” was all Oscar said, patting their shoulders like friends do before making his way out the gate to his car. It was formal, no goodbye, no kisses, no hugs, just a simple pat on their shoulders, a clear line in the sand and thankfully the two didn’t dare cross it.
Oscar climbed into the drivers seat, not giving them any satisfaction of looking back. He wouldn’t be surprised if they had already turned their back and started walking away, but they didn’t. Oscar could see them in his rear view mirror as he pulled away, standing under the gate lights watching his car leave with matching pained expressions. A part of Oscar had wished they left, seeing them standing there as he drove away was almost enough to make him think that they actually cared for him.
Almost enough.