Archive of Our Own ^beta

It starts off as a joke.

One of Daniel’s mechanics had spotted the item in question, billowing in the wind attached to one of the many overwhelmingly-orange merchandise stands that border the walkway leading up to the pits.

A freaking cape, long and lined with the Dutch flag along the seams, gleaming fiercely under the merciless Zandvoort sun.

And as if the colour alone doesn’t immediately showcase who the wearer is here to support, across the back of the material stretches a very hard to miss black print of a proudly-maned lion with Dutch face-paint streaked across its cheeks.

It’s so terribly outlandish and eccentric that Daniel had wanted to purchase it immediately in order to tease his boyfriend, but the mechanics beat him to it by betting him twenty quid that he wouldn’t wear it for the driver’s parade the next day.

With an incredibly sly grin, Dan had chuckled out a laugh and joked that they’d just have to wait and see.

It turns out that his mechanics had apparently interpreted this as a polite decline to their proposed bet rather than consideration, because when Daniel arrives the next day draped in Dutch orange over his McLaren team shirt he receives a few gawks, laughs and multiple respectful (he thinks) pats on the back.

Before he knows it, he’s twenty pounds richer than before and sliding himself into his driver’s room to drop his stuff off before heading out to the floats for the start of the parade.

“This is why you made me get up at six in the morning?”

Daniel turns to find Micheal seated on the couch, one of his helmets in hand as he pauses in applying a visor shade to criticise his friend’s new and bright attire, shaking his head.

“Mate, just suck Max off next time. It’s a whole lot cheaper.”

Almost choking on his mouthful of orange juice, Daniel just about withholds a cackled laugh. His best friend and trainer had not been too impressed upon receiving his first request of the day to accompany him to the merchandise stall without even letting him see what he was buying.

(It may have taken promises to complete an extra thirty press-ups and burpees during their next training session, but Daniel would still argue that it was completely worth it.)

“What do you think?”

Daniel simply grins in reply, giving his friend a slightly unstable twirl for the hell of it.

“I think you’re so fucking whipped, mate… that’s what I think.”

Stuffing a protein bar into his mouth, Dan chuckles to himself before replying, “Shut up— the lads bet me twenty that I wouldn’t wear it for the parade so you know I couldn’t resist. Besides, the whole team are loving it. It’s good for morale and all that.”

He throws in a wink for good measure causing Micheal to simply roll his eyes before returning to his earlier task, applying the remainder of the visor shade. He raises his eyebrows as he mutters, “I can think of someone who’s going to love it even more…”

Daniel maintains his broad grin in Michael’s direction as he finishes the last bite of his bar.

“Dick.”

The other man doesn’t even look up from his work as he shakes his head in reply, “Hurry up or you’ll be late for the parade.”

”Oh shit.”

~

Putting a little extra spring in his step on the jog over means that Daniel arrives at the floats with a few minutes to spare.

George is the first person he greets and immediately the young Brit insists on ‘documenting this moment forever’ with a video on his Instagram story. Daniel swishes his cape all in good nature as the younger films him, laughing together until his eyes find his primary target on the other side of some barriers making conversation with Charles, Carlos and Pierre.

His boyfriend brings the only other splash of orange to the slowly gathering gaggle of drivers at the foot of the floats and Daniel can’t stop himself from thinking about how they’re matching.

As he makes his way over, he can see one of the Ferrari guys filming his approach but he doesn’t care all too much, sidling up to the group until Max’s blue eyes catch his, flying wide in surprise as he adjusts his mask.

“I— what?!”

Max exclaims as Dan hears the other drivers beside him emit snorted chuckles. Carlos appears to be simply confused.

“Wij zijn oranje.”

Daniel tries to recite the words splayed across his chest confidently even though he has no idea if he’s pronouncing them correctly at all. He’d endeavoured to learn from Google Translate earlier this morning, but apparently that hadn’t gone all too well.

He at least knows what it means, though. And he definitely knows Max does because he can read the Dutch writing on his chest as a last resort.

We are orange.

In this way, Daniel is publicly including himself in Max’s fanbase and he can tell by the squinty glee present in the younger’s eyes that he’s enjoying this massively.

“To bring you luck during the race.”

He then shouts more audibly over the noise of the bustling grandstand they’re currently stood beside, inciting yet another playful laugh from their companions but Daniel watches Max’s cheeks widen beneath his mask in that wonderful, bashful smile that he absolutely adores.

“I’ll be cheering for you.”

Daniel tells Max as he fist bumps him, and shimmies his shoulders slightly to shuffle the cape in exaggeration. He knows how much this Grand Prix means to him, it being more than thirty years since F1 has even raced in Zandvoort, let alone had a Dutchman win.

Max wants to make his dad proud, his team, his family. He wants, so desperately, to claw back his championship lead over Lewis. Daniel knows he damn well needs it to feel more secure going straight into Monza next week as well.

He can see the slight relief of tension and thanks in Max’s eyes before Dan has to turn to fist bump the other drivers too, it only being polite, and then they’re getting ushered into the floats as the engines begin to start up.

Red Bull give Max a Go-Pro to record his point of view from the parade, but Daniel suspects there may be more footage of him in his orange cape by now than of the track itself and the fans…

Daniel emits a reluctant sigh as he turns back to wave at the crowds.

Damn.

He hates it when Micheal is right.

~

Max wins and it’s absolutely phenomenal.

Not only was Max’s victory itself impressive, but the sheer roar of the crowd as the Dutchman raises his first place trophy to the sky could’ve been mistaken for a sonic boom.

The atmosphere is electric. The elevation of the crowd’s spirits is infectious despite Dan’s own race turning out to be rather disappointing; a tingly, humming feeling instilling itself in his bones as he jogs to join the podium crowd after getting weighed.

Max wears the Dutch flag proudly draped across his shoulders as his national anthem begins to play. Daniel thinks he always looks the most stunning fresh from the track, hair tousled and slightly damp, the imprints from his helmet still faintly visible under his eyes.

There’s always a residual heat present in Max after a race, excess adrenaline coursing through his veins with mighty vigour that keeps him running until he can crash into his bed, preferably with Daniel beside him.

Now, Dan can practically see that warmth glowing through his cheeks with pride. A sight that instantly causes a grin to crack it’s way onto Daniel’s cheeks as he has the pleasure of gazing up and upon his boyfriend in the midst of such thralls of glee.

He can’t wait to get his hands on him later.

Then, in that moment, even better idea latches onto the more sinful depths of his mind.

“Hey, Micheal,” Said man hums noncommittally from beside him, clapping politely as the Austrian anthem ends, “Where did I leave my cape?”

~

It’s a good few hours before Dan gets to see Max again, and it’s certainly been more than that since they last talked.

Daniel painfully suffers through his own race debrief, the thought of meeting with Max soon the only thing pushing him through.

After brief correspondence over text, Daniel learns that he’ll be the first to get back. Red Bull are only staying down the street from the Hilton, which is mightily convenient for Dan so he has no complaints, and Max had given him his spare key at the beginning of the race week.

So after having hastily packed all of his belongings from his trailer (a certain bright orange garment included), Daniel had headed straight to Max’s hotel instead of his own, eager to allow as much time as possible to prepare his boyfriend’s surprise.

He ducks quickly through the lobby area and is thankful when the elevator doors open to reveal that it’s empty. Dan pushes the button for Max’s floor and hums to himself as the lift moves with barely any trace of the mechanical goings on behind the sleek and glossy interior. The Hilton’s nice and all but, damn, Dan doesn’t half miss most of the Red Bull hospitalities.

Daniel beeps open the door to Max’s room with ease. He already visited briefly on Thursday night when he and Max went out for dinner together and he’d picked him up, but it doesn’t mean that Daniel can’t be impressed by the lavish decor for a second time.

He sets his bag down on the desk opposite the bed when he reaches the bedroom. He hasn’t brought much with him, leaving the rest with Micheal in the car to take back to his actual hotel room. The two of them tend to simply use the other’s toiletries when they visit each other anyway because it’s easier.

Of course, he also packed the horrendously Dutch cape, lovingly folded into a neat pile at the top of his bag. His entire plan did revolve around the item of clothing after all.

Just as Daniel is stripping himself of most of his clothes, he receives a text from Max that simply says, ten minutes, and Dan immediately knows that Max is just as excited to see him as he is Max, impatiently tapping his foot against the floor of the car.

Daniel is just about prepared when Max announces his arrival with a simple, “Hey, I’m back.” Followed by the miscellaneous banging noise of him jostling multiple bags through the door before Dan hears his boyfriend audibly sigh in relief as he finally discards them onto the floor.

“Dan?”

Comes Max’s slightly more confused tone from down the hallway, slowly increasing in volume as he asks again, closer. After obviously spying Daniel’s overnight bag on the desk, he asks again more loudly.

“Daniel..? Are you still he—“

The younger stops his words and in his tracks once Daniel comes into view, kneeling at the centre of his humongous king-sized bed.

Daniel gives Max a few seconds before opening his mouth because he knows that he’s a sight to see, sat back against his thighs, legs splayed, with his red and hardening cock protruding proudly between them.

Around his shoulders and dipping against his collarbone is the flimsy orange material of the cape he’d worn for the driver’s parade and had so proudly shown off to Max… and it’s the only thing he’s wearing.

Wij zijn oranje.

The black lettering still spreads proudly across his chest, stretching when he tenses his muscles slightly under Max’s surprised and then immediately deeply intrigued and heated gaze. The words match the dark of his eyes, the orange brings out a glow in his olive skin.

In short, Daniel knows he looks fucking good. The real question is what Max is going to do about it.

“Congratulations Maxy,”

Daniel fights to keep his tone as flat as he can, but he can’t resist the broad, toothy grin that spreads onto his cheeks.

“I’m so proud of you.”

It takes another couple of seconds before Max seems to work out how to function again, blinking slowly once, then twice and then breaking out into a beaming smile that would give the sun a run for its money.

“I— uh, thank you.”

Max eventually manages to choke out as his bright blue eyes continue to rake down the toned planes of Daniel’s body.

He’d been slightly worried that he might begin to feel slightly self conscious by so shamelessly planning to display himself to Max in this way, but instead Daniel feels more turned on than he ever has in his life.

Dan pushes his knuckles against the sheets in between his thighs, just in front of his cock, at a lack for a better place to rest them, the change of position however, only seems to stir Max even more.

A final rucksack Daniel hadn’t even realised Max had been wearing falls to the floor with a careless ‘clunk’ as his boyfriend finally, finally, crosses the floor to reach the bed. But before Dan can even attempt to encourage Max to touch him— to do anything— he realises what the younger plans to do instead.

It’s so silent that Daniel can hear Max’s footfalls on the carpet as he rounds the bed to admire the view of the cape stretched across his boyfriend’s shoulders from behind, the orange material falling past his back and draping outwards onto the sheets in the imitation of a wedding veil.

“Is this all for me?”

Max asks from behind him, perhaps lightly touching the fabric pooled on the bed if Daniel stretches his hearing far enough but he can’t be sure. And he kind of wants to roll his eyes and retort, who the hell else would it be for? but Daniel knows the game and they’ve been playing it for a long, long time now.

Instead, he nods his head diligently, yet silently, and gleams at Max through his eyes when he comes back into view, restraining himself from leaning forwards too much to incite the other’s touch but gripping onto his thighs.

“For you, Maxy.”

He receives an approving, loud hum in reply. Max rids himself of his clothes before even getting anywhere near where Daniel is starting to so desperately want him.

“Do you like it?”

Dan breathes out heavily as Max lays a hand flat against the hot flesh of his thigh, tracing the patterns of his tattoos with a lazy finger.

This time, Daniel can feel the vibration from Max’s throat when he hums, “Of course I do, I like everything you do… everything about you.”

Daniel smiles to himself as he senses there’s something more, watching Max focus on tracing the designs etched into his skin, so he prompts, “But..?”

Max laughs quietly like he’s been caught out. Blue eyes flick up to meet his own with startling accuracy before the younger admits, “But, I do especially love seeing you in my colours.”

There’s no time for Daniel to chuckle back a reply because Max surges upwards to press his lips to his own. Max still takes bubbly, like champagne and perspiration and Red Bull, and Daniel drinks in every inch he’s given.

Max is calling the shots today, even if he had been the one to engineer it in that way. Daniel doesn’t often end up in the more submissive role, Max being thoroughly up for anything and everything Daniel wants to do to him within reason, but every once in a while, since one of Max’s birthdays when he’d asked if Daniel would be willing to try, he’ll allow himself to be on the receiving end of their relationship.

He hadn’t done it this way many times before Max, but by far Max had made him feel the most pleasure. Perhaps it comes along with the whole ‘being hopelessly in love’ thing with your boyfriend too.

Daniel had most definitely wanted it today after seeing Max on the podium, reclaiming first place in the championship rankings and being generally on top of the bloody world. He’d looked amazingly strong and undeniable when he’d emerged from his car victorious, one clenched fist raised triumphantly in the air, and Daniel had wanted nothing more than for his boyfriend to bury himself deep inside of him.

That moment is closer than ever now, Max before him on the bed and his hands slowly sliding up Daniel’s sides, past his hips and bracketing either side of his waist. His cock twitches, almost in annoyance, as it doesn’t receive the attention it most definitely desires.

Max is still kissing him, his lips red and swollen with misty and narrow eyes when he pulls back for a second to catch some air and admire Daniel’s naked form once more.

Daniel absolutely loves it when Max looks like that, especially after he’s been choking on his cock and spluttering for breath, but he supposes being kissed to death is also a close second.

“Maxy…” He just about manages to breathe out as the Dutchman’s hands wander higher, toying with his nipples and then eventually the edges of his cape, “Max— please.”

The younger pulls back, simply watching Daniel’s head move to try and follow him, before tutting quietly, “Thought this was supposed to be for me, baby…”

Max guides Daniel onto his back with a push of his hands as he continues talking, settling himself in between his thighs. The brush of Max’s hot skin to his more sensitive areas electrifies the entirety of Daniel’s lower half. He has to fight hard not to jerk his hips upwards.

“Seems like you’re enjoying yourself a whole lot too.”

With the return of Max’s lips also comes the first shuddering touch to his aching cock. This time Daniel is unable to withhold himself as he thrusts upwards into Max’s grip, which the younger seemingly allows for the time being.

“I loved seeing you all dressed up for me,” Max whispers into his ear as he tilts Dan’s head back to connect his lips to his neck in a dizzying blaze, “My favourite member of the orange army… wearing your little cape for me.”

God, Daniel doesn’t think Max realises just how good he is at simply talking during sex. His voice drops so low and sultry that it never fails to leave sparks dancing across Daniel’s skin, yet he still insists that he’s terrible at it.

“Gonna fuck you right here on top of it,” Max announces, dipping his head down to kiss at his chest and the fabric over his shoulders to emphasise his point, “Gonna enjoy my prize… fuck, Daniel— when did you..?”

Max’s fingers had been slowly wandering downwards as he spoke, upon finally settling at his hole and pushing lightly there, Daniel knows exactly what Max is referring to and allows himself a brief chuckle that he’s still managed to surprise his boyfriend in his half-delirious state.

“Mmm, when you said you were ten minutes away.”

Daniel can practically see the images flashing before Max’s eyes as they darken and pool with fire: Dan on his bed with his legs open, slowly opening himself up for Max to fuck him just minutes later.

Max’s next grip on his thighs is tighter as he hitches them up higher, causing Daniel to gasp out at the pleasurable stretch.

“You’re something else,” He breathes into their kiss when he stoops downwards again to steal Daniel’s lips, “Baby… d’you need— do you need me to—“

“Fuck me,” Daniel gasps into the wet mess of their tongues and lips, biting into Max’s bottom lip momentarily before letting it go, “Right away, Maxy. Right now— please.”

He feels Max’s hands wander upwards to map the sides of his body again before returning to their rightful places under the crooks of Daniel’s knees, keeping his legs up and out of the way and his glistening, lubed hole exposed.

“Fuck,” Max says through a huff of breath, “Fuck, fuck, okay. Condom?”

Sometimes they forgo using one at all, but today Daniel couldn’t resist.

“On the side.”

He instructs Max as he gestures vaguely, waiting with a sly grin on his face as he waits for Max to notice.

“You…— what?! They really make these?”

Daniel can’t help but cackle out a laugh as Max leans over him again, dangling the small, orange packet from his thumb and forefinger.

“They’re orange.”

Dan explains, even though it doesn’t really need explaining. Max rolls his eyes and scoffs at him before calling him an idiot, it’s all softened, however, by the, “I love you so much.” that follows.

“I love you too.”

The words are shrouded in gasps as Max pushes into him, although he knows Max hears him through the way that he tightly laces both of their hands together, bringing them up and above Daniel’s head to be pressed into the pillows.

The orange material of his cape is draped all around him, splayed out perfectly like a sacrificial offering to Max who seems to be relishing Daniel perfectly. He drives his hips forward quickly, thrusting deep into Dan’s tight hole, working beautiful gasps for air across his lips.

“Max,” Daniel pleads as said man works his way down to his neck, sucking and biting delicious marks onto the skin there, “— ah, please. More.”

Max takes Daniel’s request like a challenge, hitching his legs up even higher to find that perfect angle and manages to somehow up his already relentless pace. It’s only a matter of seconds before he begins to brush up against his prostate and Daniel loses all sense of movement and time, simply allowing himself to be taken and used as he whites out and reaches his climax, clutching onto Max’s firm hands to ground him.

It’s even better this way, Daniel thinks as he slowly creeps his eyes back open to the vision of Max looming over him, hot, sweaty and absolutely beautiful as he continues to drive into him, because now he gets to fully appreciate the view.

He can see Max raking his eyes across his sweat-dampened chest and the orange fabric sticking to the skin there, blanketing his body, before returning to pin down Daniel with a single blazing gaze.

Dan loves this side of Max so much. It’s what you get from the Dutchman as soon as he’s in the car: pure and unfiltered determination, a fire burning up everything inside as he drives everything he has and is into his movements.

He tells Max as much when he realises he’s nearing his climax, mumbling out further praises for his win and how proud he is of him and how he’s leading the championship and every good little thing he can recall that happened today. And it’s his words that finally bring Max over the edge, spilling his load into Daniel as he brings their foreheads to rest together.

With their hands intertwined, a soft gaze level between them and Max’s cock still hotly pulsing inside of him, Daniel can’t help but think that it doesn’t get much better than this.

He takes Max’s lips and kisses him delicately. When he pulls back, Max is looking down at him like he’s the best thing in the world, latent in a bed of orange with mussed hair, golden skin and sleepy eyes.

Today was a good fucking day.