Chapter Text
1
It had been about three months since the chaotic chase through the paddock that had ended with Max and George finally becoming a couple.
Their relationship was progressing smoothly—more than smoothly, in fact.
...Perhaps, a little too intensely.
In a suite overlooking the jewel-like nightscape of Milan, the sound of rhythmic impacts and the wet friction of bodies echoed through the room.
Spread out atop a heavy mahogany dining table, George lay back, taking all of Max’s unyielding hardness. With every deep thrust, their slick, intertwined heat made a lewd, squelching sound that filled the silence.
"Ah... Max! ...Haa, ah... deeper... please..."
George’s eyes brimmed with moisture as he wrapped his long, slender legs tightly around Max’s waist, clinging to him. His gaze shimmered like starlight, his face flushed and melted with a pleasure he showed to no one but Max.
"Damn it... George, stop teasing!"
Max gripped the divots of George’s hips so firmly it would surely leave marks, increasing the speed of his thrusts. His length collided with George’s most sensitive depths as if kissing them. Each time that hard heat struck the entrance to his womb, George’s insides tightened in a frantic, pleasurable spasm.
"Ah... no, I can't—Maxie, I'm coming...!"
George reached his peak first, his internal muscles clenching around Max’s cock in a rhythmic convulsion. That desperate tightening pushed Max right over the edge.
"George...!"
A hot surge of semen filled the condom.
As Max ground his hips forward, rubbing into him one last time, George’s eyelashes fluttered as he surrendered to the lingering waves of euphoria. The sounds of their ragged breathing eventually harmonized, softening into sighs of deep satisfaction as they leaned their foreheads together and shared a smile.
George turned his large, doe-like eyes toward Max, his gaze overflowing with affection.
"Max."
"Yeah?"
"I love you so much."
George’s refined features crinkled into a radiant, messy smile—the same way he had laughed since he was a boy.
Max was completely undone by George’s candid words and that earnest smile. George had always been a talker—sharing everything from the necessary to the trivial. But now that their relationship had shifted, he had become even more vocal, occasionally catching Max off guard with how bluntly and sweetly he declared his love.
"...I love you too."
In moments like these, Max stopped holding back and let his own affection pour out. Though it was still a bit embarrassing to say out loud, he wanted to be sincere in the face of the love George offered him so freely.
At Max’s shy response, George gave a satisfied laugh, nuzzling his forehead and cheek against the crook of Max's neck like a cat seeking warmth.
Once Max had removed the condom and tossed it into the bin, George slipped off the table and pushed back his sweat-dampened hair. He left a lingering kiss on Max’s cheek before heading to the bathroom to start the tub.
Left alone, Max began clearing away the remnants of used latex and discarded foil wrappers strewn across the table and floor. When he picked up the thin cardboard box that had held the rubbers, he realized it was completely empty.
Wait... I’m pretty sure I only bought these the night before last. Isn’t it way too early for the box to be empty?
Max mentally retraced his steps.
It was Thursday night. On Tuesday night, realizing they were running low while on the private jet, he’d picked up a spare box at the airport. They’d checked into the hotel without even stopping for dinner, tumbling into the bedroom where he’d taken George immediately. He was fairly certain they’d used three then. Later, after a bath and just before a second round... no, he’d had to go grab another one from his bag first. Then, after room service, they’d gone at it again in bed. The sight of George’s sated, beautiful smile before falling asleep had been so precious. That brought the count to five out of the dozen.
The next morning, George had been so adorable, whispering and giggling under the covers, that Max had reached for him again before breakfast. It felt almost reckless to leave George behind for the day while he still wore that languid, flushed expression of a man well-loved, but Max only had himself to blame. After a day of PR events, training, and meetings, they’d reunited at a restaurant in Milan.
And then, returning to this room to escape the bustle of the city, they’d definitely had sex four more times. That made ten condoms consumed... in just two days.
And just now—despite having said they should take it easy since tomorrow was Friday—they’d burned through the final two.
Is this... actually too much?
To be honest, this frequency wasn’t exactly unusual for them lately. Since officially becoming a couple, they had stopped using suppressors and returned to spending their heats together. Now that they could be by each other's side without needing excuses or justifications, it hadn't taken long for them to start craving each other intensely, heat or no heat. No matter how many times they joined their bodies, they never grew tired of one another; if anything, their desire only deepened with every touch.
The sheer contrast in George’s usual demeanor was another factor. After the chaos of the public confession, Max and George had discussed how they would behave in the paddock. They decided to maintain a level of professional distance in public: no holding hands, no intimate hugging. They agreed that walking side-by-side or a simple fist-bump was fine. A brief, back-slapping "bro-hug" was the limit. They chose to appear as nothing more than healthy rivals.
In truth, every time Max caught sight of George, he wanted to run to him and pull him into his arms. But to avoid the inevitable scrutiny and interference from the FIA or sponsors, this was a necessary sacrifice. Max felt a constant urge to brag about George to the entire world, yet he kept every impulse locked behind a stoic poker face. Perhaps because he understood Max's frustration, the moment they were behind closed doors, George pampered Max to his heart's content, surrendering himself—body and soul—to Max’s care.
George had always been physically affectionate with those he liked, but now that Max occupied the space closest to his heart, he was granted proximity greater than anyone else’s. The moment the door to their room clicked shut, George would wrap his arms around Max, nuzzling into the crook of his neck with a sweet, needy air. Max would hold him back as if embracing George’s entire world, pressing kiss after kiss onto George’s beautifully shaped, lovely lips.
George would look up at him with a melting, flirtatious gaze, his fingers teasing Max’s stubble, while Max gently stroked George’s lower abdomen—lean and firm, yet strikingly thin. When they were caught in a loop like that, how could they not naturally spiral into sex? It felt almost inevitable.
Having justified it that way, the result was their current reality: burning through a dozen condoms in about three days. But we’re basically a brand-new couple, Max reasoned. We finally understand each other's feelings, and I'm finally allowed to love him whenever I want. Isn't this level of intensity... normal? Max, having never been so head-over-heels in love with anyone before, no longer had any idea what "normal" even meant.
"Not a chance in hell! No matter how you look at it, you guys are doing it too much! You’re gonna die!"
Lando practically screamed, nearly choking on the Monster energy drink he’d been sipping. In the peaceful setting of the paddock terrace, Max—the one who had just dropped this bombshell—simply looked back at him, blinking in confusion.
"...For a new couple, isn't this about average?"
"Even so, that’s overkill. Besides, you guys have been doing it during your heats this whole time, right? Can you even call yourselves a 'new' couple?"
Max fell silent, momentarily stunned by Lando’s unexpected logic.
"But during those heats, there was at least a month-long gap between each one. If we're just filling in all that empty time now, it's not that weird, is it?"
"That doesn't mean you should act like every day is a heat! What, are you trying to get George pregnant already?"
Lando’s words hit Max like a physical blow. Every day is a heat? That was, honestly, the only way to describe their recent situation. And unlike during an actual heat, Max had been taking George with his reason intact, not driven by biological instinct. It wasn't the pheromones; it was because George was so heartbreakingly beautiful, and Max himself had zero self-control. Am I just a beast in heat? A sudden wave of anxiety washed over him—what if George was already fed up with him?
"...Do you think he sees me as a man who thinks about nothing but sex?"
"I mean, you’d have to ask George himself to know for sure. But look, if you keep going at that pace, a normal Omega would be broken. George only keeps up with you because he’s fit as hell... Oh, wait. Actually, George’s ass used to be smaller, but lately, it looks like it’s filling out a bit? A bit... plumper, maybe? Is that your fault?"
"Hey, shut it. Don't look at George like that. I'll kill you."
"I’m not looking! The racing suits just make it obvious!"
Max glared at Lando with murderous intent, convinced his Omega was being viewed through a sexual lens. Lando thought to himself that Max was being remarkably rude to someone who was actually trying to help—but then again, this was Max. There was no point in arguing.
"Look, whether this whole 'shagging-around-the-clock' lifestyle is okay is something you two need to discuss together, alright? And if you're going to be that possessive, just bloody well claim him as your mate already! You're genuinely scary sometimes, Max."
"Whether or not we become mates... that’s a different story."
Max’s expression hardened even further, prompting a massive sigh from Lando. Lando had recently realized that while this man—Max Verstappen—was fearless and arrogant behind the wheel, making split-second choices to seize victory, he became surprisingly hesitant and indecisive when it came to just one man: George. It was precisely because George was so deeply treasured, so genuinely loved, that Max grew so paralyzed. George was Max’s greatest weakness, yet simultaneously the very thing that made him strongest.
For an Alpha and Omega to mate was to risk shackling the Omega’s freedom. Max hesitated, fearing that by claiming George, he would be turning a strongly independent man into someone who couldn't survive without his presence.
But, Max thought, if I don't even have the resolve to tie him to me, yet I continue to devour him out of pure desire... isn't that the mark of the worst kind of Alpha?
If his constant craving for George was merely an outburst of clumsy possessiveness, shouldn't he exercise restraint? Even if George allowed it, the physical toll on an Omega was far more exhausting than on an Alpha.
Can I truly say I’m treasuring him right now?
Max began to sink alone into a deep ocean of contemplation.
"You really should talk about all that, too. Otherwise, you’re going to end up having another chase through the paddock and causing another public scene," Lando added, his voice intentionally bright to pull Max out of his heavy thoughts.
Max nodded silently.
Then, as if he had reached a monumental decision, a cold blue flame ignited in the depths of his eyes.
"Yeah. But first, I'm definitely starting by rethinking our sex life. I don't want George thinking I'm just some sex-crazed ape who only wants to get laid. Lando, I’m going to be a gentleman. I’m going to nurture a proper, romantic love with George."
Max made his declaration with a piercing stare, looking Lando straight in the eye. Slightly creeped out by the sudden, mysterious flip of Max's internal switch, Lando managed a reply.
"Uh, sure... I have no idea what your version of a 'gentleman' looks like, but good luck. Honestly, though, it’ll be a relief. It was getting awkward having to look at George when he clearly looked like he'd just been... well, you know. It’ll be nice not to have to look away in embarrassment."
The moment Lando finished his sentence, Max’s gaze turned to absolute zero.
"I knew it. You are looking at George with dirty thoughts, aren't you?"
"FOR THE LAST TIME, I AM NOT!!!!!!"
Lando’s soulful, pained shriek echoed through the air.
And so, Max’s grand plan for a "sweet, gentlemanly life" with his lover began.
However, Max had no way of knowing that at that very moment, over on the terrace of the Williams motorhome, George was wailing to Alex Albon in despair.
"It failed again... Max failed to make me his mate again!"
tbc