Chapter Text
The Bahraini sun reflected arrogantly off the hotel windows, as if it knew what was coming. Ollie squinted behind his sunglasses as the van that had picked them up from the airport pulled up outside the main lobby. The tinted glass wasn't enough to hide the heat building on the back of his neck, but it wasn't the weather he wanted to protect himself from either. It was the intangible but ever-present weight of tension.
"Is everything okay?" Isack asked quietly beside him, with that calmness that was only real at times.
Ollie nodded, though the answer was a white lie. Nothing was okay.
Since they got off the plane, he'd felt nervousness mixed with the dry desert breeze. Not just his, but everyone's. Gabriel, jaw clenched, constantly checking his phone. Liam, hands in his pockets, trying to hide the fact that they were shaking. Oscar, rigid as if his spine were a steel beam. Logan, on the other hand, looked like a latent storm, as if he were holding back for the pups more than for himself. Kimi remained calm and edgy, as if daring to break the atmosphere. Jack pretended better, pretending to be fine, but it was noticeable that his smile was forced. And Franco, silent, stuck like a shadow next to his pack alpha.
No one said it, but everyone knew it. This time they wouldn't be able to avoid each other's gaze. This time, they weren't at an event where protocol and etiquette could excuse distance. They were in the paddock. And while their bodies were no longer bleeding internally as they had been in the days following the breakup, the wound was still there, latent.
At least Dino and Paul would be spared the situation, having had to travel to Barcelona for Dino's Formula 2 tests just after Paul's heat had ended. That night they would be on their way to Monaco, finishing packing the entire pack for the first round in Australia, including the cycles that some had to go through. Especially the first one from a certain alpha, who was starting to act quite hormonal.
They went up to their rooms in silence. Logan and Oscar were the only ones from the pairs allowed to go together, the laws regarding pack leaders allowing them to share a room even though they weren't yet marked. The rest were divided up with the surgical care of someone defusing a bomb.
"Well," Isack sighed as he entered the room he would share with Ollie, "at least we're together. I can't imagine being alone now."
The younger man didn't reply. He sank down onto the bed without taking off his shoes, staring at the ceiling as if he could find some writing between the cracks in the plaster. He didn't have the strength to verbalize his hopes. Words brought fears to life, and Ollie didn't want to make them real.
That evening, they met in the apartment's common room. At first, just to coordinate schedules, go over the simulators, and organize their backpacks for the next day. But little by little, one by one, they sat down without saying a word.
"Tomorrow's going to be a long day," Oscar murmured, more to himself than to anyone else.
Jack nodded, and for the first time all night, someone answered clearly:
"And there's no way around it this time."
The sun hadn't yet fully risen over the desert. The light was a mix of orange and gold, filtering timidly through the thin curtains of the hotel where the pack pups were staying. The air conditioner hummed softly, unable to silence the nervous commotion in each room. Everyone had their doors open, moving from room to room to borrow clothes or simply share a few words of encouragement.
In the quietest room, Franco barely blinked, sitting on the edge of the bed while tying his shoelaces with almost obsessive precision. Jack stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his clothes with focused, though tense, movements.
"You're going to stay with me when you're done, aren't you?" the Argentinian asked without looking up.
Jack turned around. His eyes were fire and fear wrapped in feigned calm.
"Of course I am. I'm not going to let them get near you. If they try, you'll come looking for me. Understood?"
Franco nodded, his chest rising with a suppressed sigh.
In the next room, Liam was clumsily packing his backpack. He'd insisted on packing at the hotel before heading to the track despite usually doing so there, just to avoid Max in the Red Bull hospitality suite.
Meanwhile, Isack—still half asleep—sat on the bed in his room next to Ollie, sharing the breakfast they'd been given.
"Do you think Esteban and Yuki are really going to stay out of it?" the Englishman asked, listlessly stirring the yogurt.
Isack shrugged.
"Dam and sire say they are. That they have some kind of agreement."
Ollie sighed. His scent was thick with tension, a sharp, amber edge that wouldn't dissipate.
"I'll have to put up with Charles and Max today, I know it." He paused for a second. "But if they come near you or Kimi, I swear..."
"You won't have to," he interrupted with a crooked smile. "I'll be the best escape artist in the paddock. Honestly."
They both laughed, though the laughter lingered, vibrating in discomfort.
The hospitality areas were beginning to vibrate with a life of their own. The sun was a bright white spear on the asphalt, and the generators groaned in the distance. Logan moved like a shadow between zones. Sometimes he stopped at McLaren next to Oscar. Sometimes he was seen near Alpine, supervising Franco and Jack. Sometimes he simply walked, observing everyone without seeming to observe anyone.
It was precisely on one of those walks that Nico Hülkenberg intercepted him.
"Logan," he called in a dry voice, as if saying that name was as strange as it was painful.
The omega stopped, but didn't turn around. He just said, in a neutral tone:
"I'm busy."
"It doesn't seem like it."
Logan slowly turned his face. His gaze was like burnished steel. Indifferent. Cruel in its firmness.
"I have nothing to say to you, Nico."
The German took a step forward, but Oscar appeared at that same instant. His presence was electric, protective. He stood between Logan and Nico without a word, like a wall.
"Everything okay?" he asked, but the way he smelled like a protective alpha left no doubt: he was ready to bite.
Nico pulled away with a disappointed snort. Kevin, further away, watched them... and didn't come closer.
At Red Bull, Liam occasionally slipped away to take refuge in the Racing Bulls building. He ran into Isack as often as possible, never losing track of him for a second. Max watched him from a distance. It was Charles who approached him first, trying to talk to him.
"Liam, wait."
"I'm busy," he said without pausing.
"Liam, you can't keep avoiding us like we're enemies. We just want to talk."
The beta turned for a second. His face was shadowed, his expression expressionless.
"And I don't want to talk to someone like you." And he disappeared into the pits.
Charles found him in one of the alleys behind the Haas area.
"Ollie, can I talk to you?"
The young man raised an eyebrow without pausing.
"I'm not sure we have anything to say to each other."
"Don't be like that," he insisted, quickening his pace beside him. "I don't know what they made you believe... but we've always been here for you."
Ollie stopped dead in his tracks. He turned to him, his brown eyes flashing harshly.
"Really? Were you 'there' in December, Charles?"
Silence.
"I..."
"Were you there when we needed someone? When we couldn't even smell anyone in the nests? Were you there or Max?"
Charles opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
"Then don't come pretending this can be fixed with a couple of polite words. I'm not a journalist for you to lie to me so blatantly."
The boy walked away. Not running, but with the speed of someone who doesn't want to be followed. And then, it was Max who found him near the Sauber hospitality, where Logan and Oscar were talking with Gabriel.
"Ollie," he said with a trembling smile. "Can I…?"
But the Brit gave him a quick glance with a neutral expression before addressing his pack members. And he said, loud and clear:
"Dam, can you come here for a second?"
It took Logan less than a blink of an eye to appear at his side, head held high, radiating his presence and the scent of coconut.
Max froze. The word, the gesture, the way Ollie said it… it was all a statement. He hadn't just got his place taken, he'd replaced him.
He left without a word. Logan didn't even look at him, too busy smiling calmly at his pup.
A few hours later, Oscar was at McLaren, going over data with the engineers, when Lando approached with a smile he tried to keep casual.
"Hey. How are you?"
Oscar didn't look up from his monitor.
"Good."
"Do you want to chat a bit when we're done?"
"No."
The omega gulped.
"Look, I know you're probably upset about the vacation, but..."
Then Oscar looked up. His scent grew thicker. Dominant alpha. Alpha willing to do anything.
"It's not that I'm 'upset,' Lando. It's that I don't trust you. Not with you near my pack."
Lando froze and sought refuge in his boyfriend's arms, trying to forget the sharp gaze that had paralyzed him moments before.
Later, Fernando tried.
"Oscar, cariño..."
"Don't call me that."
"I just want to talk."
"And I don't want to listen."
"But this is important..."
"I don't care about your opinion or your needs," Oscar snapped, abruptly pulling away.
Considering the battle was lost, the Spaniard tried his luck by asking the rest of his small family unit for help. When Mark and Carlos arrived, Oscar's chest was already expanded, his eyes hard, his scent sharp as a storm.
"None of you are my pack. None of you have the right."
In Mercedes, the atmosphere felt dense. George, from early on, had adopted the posture of a cautious spectator. Every time Kimi passed by, he gave him a brief, almost imperceptible smile, but he didn't approach. He didn't try anything else. He didn't ask.
Kimi silently thanked him. His attention, however, wasn't on George. It was on the shadow moving through the corridors, watching every move with a sharp eye: Nico Rosberg. And beside him, Lewis.
Both moved with an air of determination that alerted all of the young alpha's senses. Lewis was talking to someone a few feet away from him. He seemed casual, but his gaze swept the area until it landed on Kimi. And then he walked toward him.
"Kimi," he greeted with a forced smile. "Can we talk for a moment?"
He didn't reply. The edge of his jaw tensed, but he didn't say anything. The older man persisted, taking a step closer.
"We want to know how you're doing. We haven't seen you since the event. There are things we should discuss."
Kimi took a step back. His scent changed instantly: it wasn't fear, it was warning. Like that of a wolf that decides that one more step is invaded territory. Lewis raised his hands, conciliatory, but Nico had already joined in. And it was he who looked directly at the Italian, his expression concerned.
"If you have something to tell us, now is the time."
But Kimi didn't speak to them. He turned toward the building's entrance and left with an annoyed expression.
A little later, he was walking with his jaw clenched, trying to clear his mind of the attempted rapprochement. They had no right to demand anything of him, not after everything that had happened. But then, his gaze stopped.
Further ahead, in a secluded area, but still within his field of vision, Ollie was alone. The omega's posture was calm, relaxed... until two figures appeared on the scene. They moved with calculated precision, approaching Ollie with a different energy. Not like someone looking for a casual conversation, but with a clear objective. Kimi understood before it happened. He saw Nico tilt his arm slightly, his scent poised to spill intentionally over Ollie. Lewis took a few steps closer, like someone preparing the ground, seeking contact. Both trying to mark Ollie so that Kimi would associate their scents with someone he cared about. He saw the discomfort in his omega's posture, the subtle hardening of his shoulders, the slight step back, trying to avoid attracting attention so he could escape more easily.
But before they achieved what they wanted, before their scents touched his boy, Kimi reacted. With quick, calculated steps, he placed himself between him and the two adults, his presence an impenetrable barrier. His scent changed instantly, from alert to pure warning, a wave of protective instinct that enveloped Ollie completely, making him feel safe, protected.
"No," he growled, and this time there was no diplomacy in his tone. His jaw was tight, his eyes cold and sharp.
Lewis and Nico stopped immediately. Not because they wanted to, but because the intensity in Kimi's gaze made it clear they'd made a mistake.
The German frowned, trying to compose himself.
"Kimi, we're not doing anything wrong," he argued, his tone measured. "We just want to talk to you."
He didn't move. He didn't budge.
"You're not going to touch him," he declared, his voice firm and unwavering. "You're not going to use him."
Ollie stood behind him, feeling the solidity of his alpha's presence as a shield between him and the threats.
Lewis, with a heavy exhalation, tried to diffuse the situation.
"Kimi, it's not like that," he said, with forced patience. "We don't want to manipulate Ollie. We just want to understand you."
The Italian narrowed his eyes, his posture still rigid.
"If you want to talk to me, do it without touching him. Without trying to impregnate him with your scent so I associate you with him."
The tension thickened with each passing second. Oscar, having noticed the tug on his instincts, was quick to intervene. The pack alpha arrived with confident strides, placing a firm hand on Kimi's shoulder. The contact was an anchor, a reminder that he didn't need to take the situation any further.
"Easy," he murmured, his tone calm but non-negotiable. "I'll take care of it."
Kimi remained silent, but his breathing was still heavy, his body still ready to react. Oscar maintained the pressure of his hand, conveying reassurance.
"Don't you come near my boys like that again," Oscar declared, with a calculated glance at Lewis and Nico. "It's not the way. It's not the place."
The adults exchanged a glance. They couldn't push this any further, not without doing irreparable damage. Slowly, they stepped back, moving away, letting the air regain some of its balance.
Kimi didn't relax immediately. Not until they were far enough away. Only then did he let out a long breath and looked at Ollie, assessing his condition.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice still thick with tension.
The omega nodded, feeling Kimi's protection still enveloping him. Oscar gave Kimi a gentle, affectionate shove on the shoulder.
"Well handled," he said proudly.
Kimi returned a firm touch, only then taking Ollie by the arm and leading him away from the area, making sure no one could try anything else.
The air was still thick, but for now, they wouldn't have to deal with that.
Not yet.
Isack was like a fish in a net. Every time someone tried to talk to him, he found an excuse, a door, a corner, a conversation that saved him. When he saw Max approaching for the third time, he took off, as if the entire circuit were a maze only he knew how to navigate. When the other finally noticed, the boy was already with Logan, helping Franco choose which coffee to take to Jack.
Lewis also tried to approach him once, in one of the side corridors, but Isack pretended to receive an urgent call and disappeared behind a door.
Franco was a ghost in Alpine. He only showed himself when strictly necessary. He stuck close to Jack or Logan, and if that wasn't possible, he found excuses to hide in the Australian's room, who insisted on keeping him as hidden as possible so no one would disturb him while he was in the car. It was easy to hide in that building, partly because Pierre ignored their presence.
Carlos tried to approach them between sessions, with a friendly smile. But the young man didn't even slow his pace. He turned in time to see Jack nearby, and ran toward him as if called.
"Jack," he said in a small voice. "He's here."
The beta turned, and wordlessly placed him in front of him as they walked, like a human shield hugging his waist.
Lando tried as dusk fell. Franco was alone for a moment, trying to find Oscar near the McLaren area. But when he saw the figure approaching, his whole body tensed. He didn't wait for him to speak. He literally ran off until he reached his dam in the Haas hospitality area.
Logan put an arm around him without asking anything. He simply kept him glued to his side.
"All right, sweetheart," he whispered. "It's over."
Gabriel had adopted silence as his trench. On the team, Hulk respected his space, perhaps more because of what he'd learned from the encounter with Logan than out of his own conviction.
Fernando, on the other hand, insisted.
"Gabriel," he called in his signature tone. "I need to talk to you."
"I don't have time."
"You say the same thing all the time. But we can't stay like this. It's not healthy."
"Nor was what happened. But that didn't seem important at the time."
Fernando approached him, hurt.
"I know we failed. But I want to fix it."
"I don't want you to fix it anymore. I just want you to leave me alone."
When Fernando walked away, Mark intercepted him, ready to intervene. But Gabriel had already disappeared in the direction of the Racing Bulls area, searching for a small French smile that would brighten his remaining hours in the paddock.