Archive of Our Own ^beta

The morning dawned dull, sunless and colorless, as if the sky itself had agreed with the frantic hearts beating in unison inside the hotel. The F1 75 event, that season launch so heralded with fanfare and promises of spectacle, now loomed over everyone like an inevitable shadow. London's O2 Arena awaited, glittering with lights and screens, but for them, it wasn't a party. It was the turning point.

Breakfast passed amid whispers and spoons tapping against the rims of cups as if trying to express something no one knew how to formulate. Dino, sitting in a corner with his laptop, struggled to maintain his aura of serene calm.

Ollie pushed dry cereal into his bowl, Kimi's sweatshirt covering him to his nails, while looking at the clock as if he could turn back time with his eyes alone. Kimi, at his side, watched him silently, his hand always present on the omega's leg, like an anchor, like a promise.

"We’ll go together," he murmured. "And I'm not letting go until I have to."

Ollie nodded, pressing his lips together. Paul leaned against Jack, who had a protective arm around his back. Franco didn't speak, just sipped juice and watched everyone, frowning. This morning, his usual sparkle seemed hidden under a blanket of anxiety.

"I don't want to go," he finally said quietly.

"We're together," the Australian replied, with gentle firmness. "Even if it doesn't seem like it. Even if they divide us. I'm going to be with you. And so is Paul."

A faint smile escaped Paul's lips, small but real.

The hours leading up to lunch passed in preparation, clothes laid out on beds, hairstyles that didn't matter but were still arranged, perfumes, and backpacks packed. One by one, they prepared themselves, ready to put the finishing touches on every detail before heading to The O2. Willing to avoid communication and interaction with others as much as possible, maintaining a distant courtesy.

The hotel rooms were filled with soft whispers, the rustle of fabric against skin, and the gentle sway of suppressed anxiety. All the doors were open while they changed, allowing them to see each other. The pups dressed slowly but surely, aware that this event not only marked a new beginning in the season, but also a silent, tense farewell, distancing them from each other and throwing them, one by one, into the lion's den.

Logan was the first to emerge from the bathroom, barefoot, his hair still damp and curling. He was wearing a flowing green chiffon dress that seemed to change color depending on the light, with long sleeves falling to his knuckles and a discreet slit on one side. The fabric hugged his waist, light as the wind, giving him an ethereal air that contrasted with his serious expression.

Oscar looked up at him from the bed, sitting cross-legged, and for a second a very faint smile escaped him, almost a disguised sigh.

"That color looks amazing on you," he said, unadorned.

The American lowered his gaze but allowed himself to lean in close for a soft kiss on the cheek, one of those gestures that needed no explanation. There was something grateful in his posture, and something fearful as well.

Paul appeared shortly after, wearing a sheer organza shirt that revealed his muscular silhouette, decorated with sky-blue embroidered details like petals floating on water. He wore a short, flared pleated skirt of the same shade that seemed to take on a life of its own when he walked. His makeup was subtle but defined, with blue eyeliner that matched the fabric and gave his gaze an extra intensity. Despite the care with which he'd styled himself, his body language screamed insecurity.

Dino, seeing that, went to him without a second thought, placing a hand on the back of his neck and pressing his forehead against his.

"You look beautiful," he said, his voice husky. "And if anyone doesn't see that, they're an idiot. I'm even sad that I can't be the one you take the arm of."

Paul laughed softly, letting the trembling in his hands dissipate in the warmth of that contact.

Ollie was next. He emerged from the dressing room with the burgundy dress hanging off his shoulders as if he'd been born wearing it. It was long and flowing, with a side slit that showed off his thigh when he moved, but it wasn't a garment meant to draw attention, it was meant to just wrap around him delicately. He wore no jewelry, just a light touch of makeup, and his hair was carefully styled, falling in soft waves. He looked like a moving painting.

Kimi was waiting for him by the door, dressed in a dark gray suit with a black shirt and no tie. He watched him with an expression bordering on tenderness, even though he didn't say anything out loud. He simply extended a hand. Ollie took it without hesitation.

Finally, Isack appeared, almost shyly. His outfit clashed with the preconceived ideas some might have had about him. He wore a short peach-colored pleated skirt that showed off his shapely legs. The white lace blouse had a soft, sweetheart neckline, and long sleeves reached his fingers. The entire outfit looked like something out of a fairy tale, yet there was nothing fake about it. It was Isack, whole and sincere.

He paused briefly next to Ollie, as if he wanted to absorb a bit of his warmth before continuing.

"You look beautiful," he said as he passed, in a barely audible whisper.

"You look even more so," the Brit replied with a fragile smile.

Isack caught it, put it away, and continued walking.

When they finally arrived at the O2 Arena, the transformation was complete. The lights, the flashes, the orchestrated music. The giant screens projecting images. Applause, cheers, screams. The assembled crowd seemed euphoric. But inside the circle of pups, everything was different.

They were separated almost immediately, led to their respective teams. The hug Logan gave Franco before leaving was strong, prolonged, as if he wanted to memorize his scent. Liam managed to squeeze Jack's arm one last time, wordlessly, before the Red Bull crew led him away. Kimi and Ollie separated at the entrance to the seating area, their lips barely touching and a silent promise in their eyes.

During the light tests, the quick hallway interviews, and the photos, they all maintained their composure. Measured smiles, courteous greetings. But none of the pups acted like they usually did. There were no jokes, no spontaneous laughs, no rushes to reconnect. They displayed a cool courtesy, as if each carried an invisible shield. And most remarkably, not even their past pack parents could break that barrier.

Lando tried to approach Franco with a gentle comment, something about how nice the suit looked on him. But the alpha responded with a hollow smile before walking away to "conduct an interview." Kevin nodded to Paul, who nodded back, his eyes dull. Lewis approached Kimi during a pause, asking if he was okay, and the young alpha nodded with such precise politeness that it was disconcerting.

"Something wrong?" he persisted.

"Nothing I can't handle," the Italian replied curtly, without even looking him in the eyes.

It was the same Brit who began to notice something was up. He let the first few hours pass, observing. He noticed that Logan was constantly scanning the other tables despite being with Oscar (who was apparently doing the same thing), that Gabriel kept glancing around for Isack, that Liam barely spoke, and that Jack was always standing next to Paul and Franco, as if the crowd were a threat. And when he tried to converse with Ollie, he only received brief, empty responses.

"Are you nervous?" he asked gently.

"A little."

An answer that said nothing. And yet, it said everything. It was then that he turned to his omega, Nico, who was leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, and gave him a questioning look. The German nodded once. Something had happened. Something serious, surely. He was going to officially become the alpha of the pack; why hadn't the rest told him that something was wrong with their respective pack pups?

The revelation didn't come suddenly, as he would have preferred. There was no confession from anyone, no dramatic scene (although that was perhaps for the best). Just shifty glances, silences that were too long, open wounds in small gestures. The way Isack closed up when someone tried to joke. The way Franco avoided any prolonged contact. The trembling in Logan's fingers. The permanent seriousness and tension on Jack's face.

And so, amid the noise, the lights, the applause, and the spectacle, a crack slowly opened. Invisible to the cameras. Impossible to ignore for those who knew them. Because something had broken. And no one knew what it was.

The boys seemed to only talk to each other, with a naturalness almost incongruous with the reserve they showed toward the rest. They shared brief smiles, knowing gestures, small shoulder nudges, or a glance that was enough to affirm: you're okay, I'm with you. It was as if they'd created an invisible refuge, one that protected them even amid the harsh lights and cameras. And everyone noticed.

George watched Kimi walk past him, his face impassive, his eyes sharp as a dagger. Before, the Italian would have greeted him with a nod, a brief word, perhaps a restrained smile. Now, he barely raised his gaze. It was enough for George to say nothing. He just watched him walk away, and then turned his gaze toward Lewis, who was talking to a journalist across the room. There was a moment, barely an instant, when he thought about walking toward him, demanding an explanation. But something stopped him. He lowered his gaze. This wasn't the time. Maybe it wasn't his place.

Yuki, leaning on a railing, watched Isack chat quietly with Paul in a corner, pointing at something on his phone. The Japanese man didn't intervene; he just crossed his arms, took a deep breath, and stayed where he was. He knew it was a logical consequence of the situation, but he wished he could have been of support to him, teammate or not.

Lance approached Mick and Esteban, who were sitting next to one of the tables with water bottles. They were talking in low voices, looking at the scattered pups.

"They're... fine. Just among themselves," said the Frenchman, frowning. "But with us... it's like we're on the other side of a glass."

"I don't blame them," said Lance, taking an unopened bottle. "No one explained anything to them. They just... were left alone."

"And the worst part is, it wasn't with any bad intentions," added Mick, with resigned sadness.

George joined them a few minutes later. He stood beside them in silence for a while, watching Jack pour water for Franco, Logan adjust Oscar's lapel without even looking at him directly. And after a few seconds, he murmured,

"I feel like a stranger sometimes."

The three of them nodded.

The others, however, still didn't see it clearly. Not entirely. Some were starting to get restless. Charles was one of the first to notice as he walked through the groups, greeting them with his usual elegance, looking for Liam and Ollie. But no one returned more than a polite smile, a friendly nod. Nothing resembling the affection that had once flowed so effortlessly.

Max approached him during a break between activities. He found him adjusting his tie, his brow furrowed slightly.

"Have you spoken to Ollie?" he asked, lowering his voice.

"I tried. He responded politely. But he was... far away." Charles lowered his hands, sighing. "You with Liam?"

"I tried too. He seemed more concerned with sneaking into the Racing Bulls table to make sure Isack had water than anything I could say to him.”

Charles looked at him. His eyes, for a moment, showed a concern he couldn't hide.

"Doesn't that seem strange to you?"

"Yes. A lot. But I don't understand why."

"And those clothes Ollie’s wearing..." the Monegasque said with obvious reluctance. "He didn't have those problems with us."

A few meters away, Lando was arguing with Carlos in a low voice. Both had their arms crossed, their faces serious. Franco moved in the background, walking next to Jack and Paul. The Argentinian seemed absent, lost in thoughts he didn't share.

"You say he hasn't spoken to you," Carlos said. "But... did you say anything to him when we left?"

"Not exactly. I assumed Lewis would take care of it."

"Did you tell Lewis?"

"I thought you'd tell Charles first."

The major gave him a long, incredulous look. Lando blinked. For the first time, the seed of bewilderment germinated inside his chest.

"God..." Carlos whispered, realizing something. "I don't think anyone took care of him."

And in another corner of the room, Sebastian and Kimi met Kevin and Nico. The four men greeted each other with discreet familiarity, and the conversation began casually… until, inevitably, the subject came up.

“Did you notice Paul?” Kevin asked, watching his pack pup talking to Jack, avoiding all the adults.

“Yes. And Logan too. He’s different,” Kimi replied.

“I don’t know what happened,” Sebastian murmured uneasily. “I sent Charles a text. I told him we’d take our time, but that Lewis would definitely take care of everything. You should be used to our unexpected retreats.”

“And you didn’t talk to them?” the other German wanted to know.

“We turned off our phones. We wanted to disconnect completely. As always.”

“Us too,” added Mark, who had joined in without them noticing. “We told Carlos to keep an eye on the boys while we were on vacation. I thought there would be no problems.”

The silence that fell between them was thick. Fernando, who was arriving right behind Mark, stopped when he heard those words. And slowly, everyone present began to put the pieces together, still unaware of the gravity of the mistake.

A shared failure. A collective disconnect. A collection of small decisions that, when made separately, seemed harmless. But taken together…

"And yours?" the Finn asked, with that way of asking without seeming to care, although his eyes betrayed it.

Kevin crossed his arms, his jaw tighter than usual.

"We were trying to regroup. All the change this season entailed caught us off guard. Logan, Paul, Jack, Esteban..." he sighed. "We were going to ask Esteban to watch his brothers while we got everything sorted. He's the oldest, he's ready, we trust him. But..." He paused, as if the words were harder than usual. "After what happened, it wasn't fair to burden him with anything else."

Nico nodded, his lips pursed. He was the one who finished the sentence:

“So we talked to Nico and Lewis. We asked them to take them in for a while, just while we figured out how to move forward. It wasn't ideal, but it was necessary.”

"Wise decision," Sebastian murmured. "Lewis has changed a lot, and he's starting to take more responsibility for pack matters since we told him we were stepping back from leading it."

His alpha narrowed his eyes with a half smile. "Maybe because he knows he no longer has a choice."

Kevin looked away, meeting Paul's gaze, who was laughing—finally laughing—at something Franco had just said. The omega clenched his jaw. He felt like an intruder in a story that had been his until recently.

"And Pierre?" Sebastian asked suddenly, with a faint bitterness, like someone who already knew the answer and was just waiting to confirm it. "Wasn't he supposed to help too?"

"Pierre," Fernando snorted with a short, humorless laugh. "Pierre can't even take care of himself since Esteban left him. How could he take care of a pup when he barely remembers to take care of himself?"

"And Charles and Max?" Kimi asked quietly, his eyes fixed on his own pack pup, who was walking close to the Dutchman. "Them too?"

The others exchanged an awkward look.

"Charles told me... they were going to take some time. A breakaway. He said Lewis would handle it," Sebastian commented, crossing his arms. "I thought they'd already given notice."

"Not to me," the mentioned chimed in, appearing at the back of the group, his face somber, his eyes heavy with the weight of the past few hours. "Not to Nico either. We didn't even receive half of the messages you mention."

"Before it was time to assume leadership," Nico added, with a bitter half-smile. "Before the pack fell on us like a weight. We wanted one last vacation alone and relaxing."

There was a brief silence. One laden with meaning, with tiredness.

"We won't have Checo to support us either," Kevin added, as if he'd just remembered. "Maybe we'll see him at the Mexican GP, ​​but he officially left the pack to be with his family."

"Did he tell the boys?" Mark asked, his voice sharp with disbelief. 

"He didn't mention it if he did," Kimi explained.

The men remained silent for a long time, watching these pups who were no longer quite pups, who seemed to have bonded with each other with iron loyalty.

"So what now?" Kevin asked bitterly. "Do we tell them 'I'm sorry, it was unintentional'? Do we wait for them to collapse in our arms just because we decide now is a good time to come back?"

"No. Not now," Fernando chimed in, his gaze fixed on Gabriel. "Not yet. There are too many cameras, too many people. They're doing what they're supposed to be doing. Holding on. Let's not take away their dignity too."

"We wait," Mark said firmly, though his jaw was tight. "We finish this. And then we stop them. One by one, if necessary. But we don't let them leave without speaking."

There was a silence. Long, deep. Interrupted only by distant applause, the steady noise of the event continuing as if nothing were happening, as if the invisible threads holding the structure of their family weren't slowly unraveling.

"What if they don't want to listen to us?" Lando asked from behind. No one had heard him arrive. His voice was no more than a whisper, but it carried the weight of the fear he hadn't been able to admit until now. Carlos was beside him, his face somber.

Sebastian turned to look at him, and what he said wasn't a promise, but a choice.

"Then we'll wait. As long as it takes."

Kimi looked away. Charles, who pressed his lips together as he watched Liam watch Jack. Oscar, who continued to look, again and again, at Ollie. Each with his own, each separated by a distance that was no longer just physical.

"But this time," said the Finn, his voice icy, "no doors are closed."

Lewis nodded slowly. "This time... we're with them. Until the end."

And in the midst of the movement, the puppies looked for each other. A silent line united them. Every gesture, every glance, was a secret language that the older ones couldn't yet decipher. A pact without words. A home without walls.

The event was fading into muted laughter and murmured conversations. Shadows cast figures dancing slowly, as if everything had entered a kind of sweet lethargy, the perfect ending to a long night. But as often happens in apparent calm, something in the air changed.

It was a gesture, a glance, a barely perceptible pause as Oscar approached Logan from the side where he'd been talking with Jack. No one noticed at first. Only Fernando, by pure chance, as he returned with a drink in his hand and looked around for his pups, Gabriel and Oscar. He stopped when he saw the Australian place a hand on the back of Logan's neck, his fingers stroking a loose lock of hair with a tenderness too clear, too deliberate to be mistaken for a gesture of friendship. Logan smiled. Not his usual charming, wide smile, but a small, private one that seemed reserved only for Oscar. Fernando frowned.

"Carlos?" he murmured, approaching his pack son who was chatting with Lando. “Since when are Oscar and Logan...?”

Carlos followed his gaze and blinked. So did Lando. And the reaction quickly ran like a shiver through the entire adult network, those who knew how to read their own kind with a single glance.

Kimi and Sebastian stopped their conversation with Lewis and Nico when they saw Liam glance protectively at Ollie for a moment, who was curled up next to Kimi, their heads close together, talking in whispers.

"Is that... Ollie?" Charles asked, almost voiceless. "And Kimi?"

Max turned to him with an expression that vacillated between surprise and indignation.

"Since when did that...? He's a pup!"

Kevin quickly turned his head to the corner, now following with his gaze the young Italian, who was standing next to Ollie, their shoulders touching, their body language screaming silences. Kimi's gesture as he brushed a strand of hair away from his face, the way the omega looked down, blushing but smiling with restrained warmth, was the final piece.

"It can't be," Sebastian muttered.

A low murmur began among the adults, each with a name, a face, a concern. The bewilderment became almost tangible when Hulk, arms crossed, raised his voice softly:

"And no one noticed? Seriously, none of us...?"

"How could we notice when we've only just gotten back together?" Mark protested with some tension. "The last few months have been chaotic, and the pups were among them. It's not that unusual..."

"Of course it is!" Kevin said. "They're too young. They shouldn't be courting each other unsupervised. It's not that they can't have feelings, but... not like this."

"If they'd been with us, it wouldn't have happened," Kimi added. "We would have talked to them, set boundaries."

"Of course, as if they couldn't have found a way anyway," Fernando murmured dryly. "You all forget that we were young, too. We think we're better just because we're adults now."

"But they're our pups," Kevin chimed in, looking at Logan with a worried expression. "They can't carry the weight of a relationship."

There was a long, tense silence, barely broken by distant laughter. It was then that Alex approached, distracted, holding a drink, and gestured to Nico Rosberg, who beckoned him over.

"Alex," Lewis said, still frowning. "Since you're here, I wanted to ask you about Isack. I know he arrived a few weeks ago. How's the paperwork coming along?"

The young man looked at him with some discomfort. Beside him, Yuki, who had also approached, lowered his gaze.

"Lewis," the Thai man began gently but bluntly. "We're not adopting him."

The silence turned stony.

"What?" Lewis's voice was more a whisper of disbelief than an exclamation.

"We're not ready for that," Yuki chimed in, somewhat uncomfortably. "We talked about it a lot. It would be unfair to promise him something we couldn't keep. We made it clear before we left in the winter. To everyone, but you didn't listen."

A new murmur rose among the adults. Because now, with the new information, everything made sense: the way the boys seemed to be keeping an eye on Isack, how he seemed more alert around the other guests, the softness that faded from his face when he separated from the rest of the pups.

Lewis remained silent. He looked at the garden once more. This time, he searched for the Frenchman and found him in the distance, talking with Gabriel and Franco, his smile gentle but his body tense. It didn't quite fit, and he saw it clearly now that he knew what had been missing from the beginning.

"I'll talk to him," he said finally.

His voice sounded like a promise. One they wouldn't let him keep.

The night slowly dissolved into murmurs, as if the world knew it was time to lower its voice and close its eyes. The lights flickered wearily.

It was time to speak. To intervene. To restore order. They'd already allowed too much liberty.

"Let's go now, before they start leaving," Sebastian murmured, adjusting his jacket with a determined expression.

"Yes. It's better to do it together," Nico Rosberg added, turning to Kevin and Hulk, who were already moving forward, ready to intercept the younger ones.

But just as they took the first step toward the pups, they realized something. They were no longer scattered. As if they'd anticipated it—as if they'd known this would happen all night—the youngsters had clustered together in a sort of tight, protective, solid formation. Ollie stood beside Kimi, with Isack close behind them. Liam was right behind them, eyeing those who crossed their paths with a mixture of curiosity and restrained defiance. Jack and Gabriel had positioned themselves at the back, bringing up the rear, while Logan and Oscar led the way.

The adults took another step, tense, trying to speak, but the bubble moved forward before they could even open their mouths.

"Hey!" Lewis called, holding out a hand. "Can we talk for a moment, please?"

But the pups were already moving. They weren't running, but their pace was firm, quick, as if they knew exactly why they were being called... and had no interest in being stopped.

It was just as they crossed the threshold that it happened. Franco, half asleep from exhaustion and with his jacket hanging off his shoulders, gently tugged on Logan's arm and murmured in a thick, innocent, deeply tender voice:

"Dam... will you hold me a little?"

The world stopped.

Dam.

The word slid through the air like a cursed bell. All the adults heard it. All of them. And they felt it in their chests like a blow. Because Franco should call Lando “dam.” Not Logan. Never Logan.

But the American didn't seem fazed. He smiled with a fluid, habitual tenderness and offered his arm without saying anything, with a smile so warm it hurt just to look at it.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he whispered, tucking the boy into his side, as if he'd done it a thousand times. As if that was his place.

The adults couldn't move. But it wasn't over yet. Liam, laughing softly, nudged Ollie and murmured with playful mockery:

“See? Dam rescues him again.”

Ollie, his head on Kimi's shoulder, smiled affectionately.

"He always does," he joked.

Logan, far from being offended, laughed affectionately, without looking back. "Someone has to look after you."

Isack approached then, somewhat hesitant, his eyes tired, clearly searching for a position. He hesitated. Logan had one arm occupied by Franco and his hand linked with Oscar's, who walked protectively beside him, his back straight, without letting go. Then the alpha looked at him and, without needing to be asked, extended his other arm.

"Do you want to come here?"

Isack nodded once and snuggled up against him, resting his head on his shoulder. He murmured, barely audible but clear, "Thanks, sire."

Sire.

The second blow.

The adults went pale. None of them dared to say a single word.

Lewis felt his throat close. He looked at Logan, then at Franco. Then at Isack, still so small in the warm lantern light, calling Oscar "sire" as if he'd always been that. He felt his stomach tighten. As if something had been released inside him. As if they'd arrived too late.

Sebastian slowly lowered his arms. The hand he'd raised to call Ollie fell limply to his side.

Kevin didn't even protest. He just stared at Paul, who was walking away, all tangled up, protected in the bubble of young people walking as if they were one body, a single living creature made of affection, wound, reconstruction.

Some of those pups... they were his.

They had been.

They had cried in their arms, slept in his nests, and now... now they looked at them from a distance and huddled against others. They had found other burrows, other arms, other voices that knew how to say "everything is fine" without empty promises.

And no one knew what to say. Because it was true. And the silence that remained when the pups crossed the street was an open wound.

Luminous, brutal.

Irreparable.