Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The F1 paddock was alive with activity. 

Mechanics worked tirelessly, fixing the cars that had been crashed the night before and hastily adding on upgrade after upgrade in a desperate attempt to find those missing few milliseconds. Engineers argued with the strategy team, one group desperately hoping for rain and the other on the verge of threatening the clouds in the sky. There were teams praying that their drivers so much as make it out of Q3 while others were going for grand slams and two drivers on the podium.

And the drivers? The tightly knit pack of alphas and betas arrived to the grid in small groups, pushing and shoving at each other, falling into their easy rhythm of bickering as they met each other. Their playful growls and snaps echoed around the paddock, much to the glares of their respective PR departments. 

Yet even with this easy camaraderie, even with the comfort in the way the pack moved around each other, something still felt… off .

See, almost every pack has an omega. They are the cornerstones of the second gender dynamics, the ones around whom a pack forms. An omega shows an interest in a group, and the alphas and betas fall around them, working on pure instincts, the hierarchy falling into place naturally. It is a common belief held by many high-level psychologists that in order for a pack to function properly, there must be an omega to lead… 

But the Formula One drivers pack? 

No omega. 

Not currently. Not ever.

Now, this is not a completely impossible thing to happen, especially when you take into account how the pack formed. Usually, packs had nothing to do with work, or if they did, it was a couple of colleagues who happened to be exceptionally close outside of the work environment. A pack could be family. It could be a very close group of friends, perhaps who all live together. There is usually a very strong, very close bond between these people before the pack starts 

But in Formula One? 

With how much the drivers were only around each other, with how much it was difficult for the drivers to relate to others given how different their lifestyle was to everyone else? With how little they were able to be around their family? Their friends?

There are only twenty drivers. In the world. Of course it was going to be difficult to relate to others! And this very quickly pushed them from uncomfortably close colleagues to a somewhat functioning pack. The first grid pack in it’s official format had formed in the late 1980s (though that one was fairly messy, what with almost all the drivers being alphas and only one poor beta desperately trying to keep the peace), and had quickly become as synonymous with F1 as the teams are. It is one of the things that the rookies look forward to when joining their new team, making the change from the F2 pack to the F1 pack is like a coming of age event in a drivers career. Not that everyone gets added immediately, of course. There's a degree of privacy in the pack that means they don’t respond very well to outsiders, so it sometimes takes a few races for the rookies to be added. Especially if it's an older driver, or one with a grudge against someone else currently in the pack. 

And in the Grid Pack, there are only alphas and betas. So naturally, a hierarchy establishes, the same as it does in any other pack, only minus the omega who usually leads everyone. And the drivers try their best to keep on track issues, and driving ability out of the pack… but there is some level of crossover, what with a large number of highly competitive individuals all around each other for large amounts of their time. And especially without an omega to lead the pack… Or at least, without an omega leading the pack.

If you ask any driver, they would tell you that Max does a very good job of leading the pack without an omega. After taking over as the Red Bull driver pack leader at the very young age of seventeen (Daniel was a beta, Daniil had no interest in fighting Max again and Carlos had befriended Max enough to trust he was the best to lead) he slowly joined into main pack in a very turbulent time. 

Pack Alpha Lewis was far more interested in fighting with alpha Nico that he was in leading the pack, and none of the others were quite ready to challenge either of them, concerned of the anger being turned onto them. (Fernando wasn’t concerned. Fernando was just a beta. Fernando was very sad by this fact.). And so when young Max Verstappen joined the grid pack, when he easily made himself comfortable in Red Bull, when he started challenging the other drivers enough on track… it was a completely sensible decision for Max to take over as the grid alpha. 

And over they years, he proved himself better and better at the role than anyone thought he would be, when he joined the pack only seventeen. Of course Max was a good pack alpha. Why wouldn’t he be?

In the Ferarri garage, a disagreement was going on. Charles was perched on a stack of tyres, arms crossed as he glared down at Carlos who was looking vaguely uncomfortable in his Williams team shirt while completely surrounded by red. “No I am serious! There must be a beta who’s taking on the omega role,” he insisted, hands waving everywhere (almost taking out a mechanic that happened to be passing by).

Carlos rolled his eyes. “There is not. We would know, yes? Max would be acknowledging them, even without knowing. Besides, if there were, who could it even be?”

At that, Charles hesitated, a moment of confused frowing as he tried to collect his thoughts, his fresh rain scent tinged with an irritation that had a few of the mechanics looking over with worry. “I don’t know… it is just… my mind is yelling at me that I am overlooking something. And I know my instincts.”

There was a hum of acknowledgement from Carlos. Charles was known, both in the pack and the wider world, for having remarkably good instincts. He could predict when people were going to present down to the hour, could spot pack arguments before it even bubbled out into the driver's scents. If Charles’s instincts were saying something, then there was something going on, surely.

The pair were soon joined by Lando (Who’s happy lemon soda scent they could smell far before he appeared, the faint whiff of bubbles catching in the back of Carlos’s throat, making him splutter out a few coughs), who draped himself over Carlos, playfully headbutting the other alpha. 

“Come on man, your just being desperate at this point,” he grinned, waving Charles off, “You’re just reading into things. But if you want an omega so badly I’m sure the’ll be one out there who’s more than happy to have a mate bond with you without joing the pack. Maybe you’ll even find your true mate or something? You seem like the kind of person to have one.”

Charles didn’t respond beyond rolling his eyes. He’d knew what he’d been feeling, and it wasn’t just desperation. And he knew that the idea of a mate bond made his inner alpha all but growl in rage… (Perhaps he was one of the many alphas who didn’t have one? With so few omegas it wasn’t certain that everyone had a true mate, after all… and that’s not even taking into account that it’s rather rare for omegas to have a true mate in the first place!) So he must be missing something. It had to be one of the betas stepping up…

Right?

Right?

Max is not, in fact, an alpha. (As i’m probably sure you might have guessed by the tags, but it you didn’t read them… surprise?). 

Max is not a beta either. 

Max is an omega. 

And he is painfully aware of what would happen if others found out. Now, this isn’t one of those stories where omegas are downtrodden and seen as lesser. In this world, to be an omega means to be granted all the privileges and special treatment because - and this is where you may need to just accept this statement and move on, and not think too much about it - there are just over 10,000,000 omegas in the world, with a to total population of upwards of 8.2 billion. 

And with this rarity? With such a natural a natural talent for leading, for caring, for ruling? With instincts that call for people to rally around them, to adore them, to care for the omega at all costs?

An omega - from the moment they were born - could expect everything they ever wanted to be handed to them on a silver platter. 

No. 

Scratch that.

 A diamond-encrusted platter served by a team of personal butlers! Omegas never even had to work - getting a more than substantial paycheck from the government each week for simply existing. Even in the poorest of countries, the government payout was at least double the average wage. Simply put, an omega never had to fight for anyhting.

But this is where the problem starts.

See, Max desperately wanted to fight.

He was a racing driver, after all, and the thrill of the race was in the competition. If he was to just win? If he was to just turn up and be gifted the title? 

Where was the fun in that? 

All the privileges he would be given… all the privileges he didn’t want. Yes, he would win, but he would’t win , you know? He’d fought for that place, fought for his seat… and he deserved to be rewarded for his hard work, not just his second gender!

Having spent his entire career perfecting the art of hiding his omega status, of hiding his instincts, pretending that he was an alpha… Max had almost managed to convince himself. 

Almost…

But it wasn’t easy. Every race was a challenge, not just to try and win, but to keep his instincts under control. His liberal use of scent patches, and suppressants and very careful control over his instinctive reactions were effective, but god was it exhausting. Mentally and physically. And hiding his second gender wasn’t even the toughest part! 

Although, that is more because Max didn’t know about the other secret he was hiding than it was about the difficulty of the secret. 

See, all omegas had a true mate. This isn’t something thats commonly talked about, more something passed down from parent to child, a fairytale come true, the rare possibility that the could be a true mate bond… and Max was one of the rare few to have such a bond. Not that he knew it.

Max had a true mate bond with Charles. 

And neither knew.

(It is important to note here, that Jos was so convinced Max would present as an Alpha (as was everyone else who ever met the young boy), that when homeschooling him, he only taught Max about alpha puberty and instincts. Though Max has managed to secretly learn most things about his own biology and instincts over the years, there are some topics that you simply can’t read in a book. Thank goodness Charles also hadn’t been paying attention when his mother had explained true bonds. This would be a rather short story if he had…)

The mate bond was the hardest part to hide. Especially as he didn’t know what was happening. Those occasional longing pangs he felt when he was around the Monegasque? That was their rivalry, of course! 

And every time Charles looks at him with those piercing pretty-pretty-pretty green eyes, and something inside Max’s chest flutterers? Natural competition, a healthy rivalry with another driver!

The desire to reach out and curl up next to him? To drag the alpha into a nest and scent him until their scents cannot be distinguished from one another? Just the natural instincts of an omega with any old alpha, obviously! (Here, Max has very cleverly ignored how he hasn’t responded like that to any other alpha. Max has done rather a lot of clever ignoring over the years.) 

The conversation between Charles and Carlos (with the useful contributions from Lando) must hav made it’s way around the rest of the pack, as late one evening after a few debriefs had run over, Max found himself in conversation by Lewis and George - the previous lead alpha and the current lead beta approaching with concerned looks upon their faces. 

“Hey Max, got a moment?” Lewis said, his tone quiet enough that no reporters would be able to overhear.

Max sighed, eyes trained down onto the data in his lap though his shoulders dropped as he relaxed slightly, “Yeah, I am not doing much. Just trying to think about the next race. Red Bull’s been demanding results, what with the constructors being all but gone.”

George huffed, a cheeky smile twitching onto his face. “Oh please, like you won’t win your fifth. You’ll be there before summer break at this point.” There was a moment of pause in which Max and Lewis let out polite chuckles, “Anyway, did you hear what Charles was talking about?”

Charles was talking about something? And Max was one of the last to find out? He carefully pushed down the bubble of resentment growing in his heart and turned to George, tucking away his racing data. They may be pack, but there was no way Max was going to share his data with a Mercedes driver…

“No? I haven’t heard. What’s Charlie saying?” He forced a smirk, leaning back further in a way that looked oh so casual and oh so alpha-like. It was almost impossible to hear the tremor in his voice, and the scent patches hid the way his sweet caramel scent turned burnt for the briefest of moments.

“You know how he’s got that thing about how his instincts are really good? Yeah? Well he’s convinced that one of the beta’s has taken over the omega role in the pack!” George laughed, but Max felt his blood run cold.

Charles did have very good instincts. And while he was currently locked in on the idea of a beta, how hard would it be for him to change his mind and start looking too closely at the alphas? At Max?!

Lewis opened his mouth to speak, (maybe he was going to agree with Charles? Did he also think that there was someone trying to fill the omega role?) but before the conversation could continue, Charles appeared, the smell of storm clouds rolling into the room.

“What are you all talking about?” Charles asked, his gaze locking onto Max’s for a split second longer than he did with the others. 

No one noticed (or perhaps they simply didn’t bat an eyelid anymore at it was such a common occurrence) the way that Charles positioned himself, moving from the doorway to stand just behind Max, his eyes trained on Lewis as Charles hooked his chin over Max’s shoulder, nuzzling into the Dutchman’s neck ever so slightly .

The Lewis and George exchanged glances but said nothing. “Nah man, we’re just talking about how you thought there was an unbalance in the pack that meant a beta was feeling the push to step up,” Lewis nodded, before ushering Geroge out of the door - the pair knowing better than to be in a small room with Max and Charles, as you weren’t ever going to get a word in that conversation.

Charles didn’t move even once the others left the room. If anything, he wrapped his arms around Max tighter. “I know my instincts are right,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with something Max couldn’t place. 

Max huffed, pushing Charles away from his neck and slipping out of his arms. “I know, Charlie, I believe you. There is an imbalance in the pack.”

Charles seemed relieved that Max was agreeing with him… had the other’s not been? It had certainly seemed like Gerorge wasn’t totally convinced but surely some of the others had been feeling the lack of an omega? Max surely was, and he wasn’t even an alpha! 

As whilst the drivers worked well together, and the pack was functional, there was always a lingering sense of imbalance, a void no one could quite articulate. And at a mid-season meeting (by which point Max had already cinched his fifth title with ease), the FIA decided that the matter was severe enough to be the subject of an official meeting.

The drivers had no idea what the meeting was about, only that it was concerning the future of the pack, and so going into the meeting room, everyone was suitably nervous.

“After careful observation,” the official began, their tone professional but firm and their nose wrinkled at the sour scents filling the room, “it’s been noted that the drivers’ pack lacks an omega. While this isn’t anything new, recent data suggests packs that gain an omega at a later date - when they don’t found around one - achieve higher cohesion, lower stress levels, and better overall performance.”

The drivers exchanged puzzled glances, murmurs rippling through the room. A few eyes widened as people realised where this was going.

“We intend to introduce an omega to the pack,” the official continued. “This will ensure you operate at your peak potential. Consider it a safety measure, if you like. Preparations will begin immediately for the introduction.”

The announcement sent shockwaves through the drivers. Yes they’d been starting to feel the unbalance, but an outside omega? Into their grid pack? Everyone was feeling just a bit uncomfortable. And none more so than Max.

 They were going to bring an omega - an outside omega - into his pack… no Max was not happy at all. But what could he do about it?

Nothing.

Chapter Text

As the drivers filed out of the meeting room, there was a buzz of activity. The pack was getting an omega! 

The paddock quickly became a frantic mess, as all teams desperately tried to work together, all trying to add the best addition to the new omegas space, for their nest room. But while everyone else raced about, Max lingered at the edges, not quite ever joining in. He watched the commotions with a detached resentment, watching as pillows, blankets, and string lights were brought in by the truckload. He watched as sofas and mattresses were added by the dozen, each looking softer and more comfy than the last. He watched as the pile of blankets grew taller than him, and then more were still piled on. Pretty blankets… fluffy blankets… His chest ached at the sight.

I t was perfect. 

Everything about the nest being built was absolutely perfect .

It was exactly what he’d craved for years. See, an omega only nested when they felt completely safe… and Max? He had never dared to dream of having a pack around him, never dared to nest anywhere outside of a sad pile of blankets alone in his hotel room after a bad race.

After a bad race he would hide in his hotel room. He’d drag all the blankets off his bed, take all the towels in from the bathroom, drag all of his comfy hoodies out of his case and make a pile on the floor. Then he’d carefully pull his mattress off the bed, pushing it into the corner of the room before piling on his materials in the shape of a nest. But he didn’t have any of the special blankets that held scent, so it always smelled sterile. There was nothing of his pack around, no scent nor any of their clothing. By omega standards, it would be considered a pathetic attempt at a nest. My Max’s standards, it was one of his better nests.

Pretending to be an alpha meant suppressing every instinct, every urge to try and get close to the pack, to build a nest that would house them all… but how wonderfully soft the blankets looked… and how nice the pillows would feel if he were to rub them against his face… and how easily the cushions would hold the scent of the pack…

“Do you think they’ll like it?” Lando asked, startling Max out of his dreaming. The young alpha was nervously adjusting a soft fleece that another driver had thrown over one of the couches ( one of the many plush couches… perfect for cuddling with the pack… ).

“Of course they will,” George said confidently as he joined the conversation easily. “Who wouldn’t? It’s such a perfect nest room!”

Max turned away, his fists clenched. It was a perfect nest rooms. Leafing through omega-focused home decorating magazines was the closest Max had ever let himself get to allowing his instincts to escape. The nest rooms there, on the glossy, oversaturated pages of those magazines that Max hid in a box in the very bottom of his wardrobe, had always looked so lovely but this nest room? It was the best money could buy and yet somehow so clearly designed by someone who had taste as well as an unlimited bank card. 

Everything was perfect. Everything so well done and with no expense spared. The FIA truly was bending over backwards to give the new omega everything they could possibly dream of and then more. 

The room was incredible.

The room was perfect.

The room was too much - a glaring reminder of everything he had denied himself.

As the days passed, the drivers couldn’t help but start speculating about the omega’s arrival. (The omega! Their pack would have an omega!) It was rare for an omega to join an existing pack, and no one was entirely sure how it would go, but there was no denying the excitement that filled the faces of every pack member. (Well, almost every).

“Do you think they’ll bond with us immediately?” Pierre asked during lunch.

“Probably,” Esteban replied, the idea of the new omega so curious that even the French Civil War was on pause for the time being, “It’s instinctual. Omegas always bring balance to the pack. That’s why packs form around them… right? I’m sure our instincts will welcome them the moment we meet.”

Charles nodded thoughtfully. “It’ll be strange, though, having someone new. We’ve been like this for years.”

Daniel grinned, no longer a driver but still very firmly part of the pack, and leaned over to mess up Charles’s hair, “Speak for yourself man! I’m so looking forward to it! Maybe they’ll calm you all down. Give us betas some help with all you alphas, yeah?”

The chatter rose up around the table at that, the usual bickering between the alphas and betas as everyone pretended that they were perfectly respectable pack members, thank-you-very-much . But Max didn’t join in. Instead he stayed quiet, his focus fixed on his plate, his food hardly touched. The conversation grated on his nerves in a way that he would never be able to explain to the other drivers.

He didn’t need calming down. 

He didn’t need anyone to bring balance. 

He had managed perfectly fine.

But that wasn’t the real issue he was taking with Daniel’s statement. However much he tried to deny it, Max knew that that wasn’t the cause of the ache in his chest. That was due to the way one of his closest friends had so easily called his pack chaotic. How they had said that the alphas needed managing, that the betas needed help…

Though he had never stepped up as the pack omega, his instincts didn’t care about that. They tried to fill the role nonetheless, and so to hear that he wasn’t doing a good job, to hear that the pack wasn’t doing good? It stung more than he cared to admit…

But there was nothing he could do about it.

Charles couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The announcement had delighted most of the drivers, but Max’s reaction (And Charles was always looking to see what Max’s reaction to something was) had been subdued. Was everything alright? Max wasn’t taking it personally was he? Did he think they were questioning his ability as the lead alpha?

It was these questions bouncing around his head when he found Max alone in the paddock one evening, staring at the nearly finished nest room from a distance. The room was almost finished, everything having been dragged in by a very willing team of alphas. Outside, the pile of blankets was slowly shrinking down from sky-high to just merely above head height. A team of electricians was just packing away from where they’d spend the past few days relentlessly trying to fit more lights than should be physically possible into the room. It was a wonderful sight to see, yet Max didn’t seem impressed. There was an expression on his face that Charles couldn’t quite figure out. It annoyed him. (He didn’t know why. There was always something about Max that made Charles desperate to know more about him then everyone else, for him to be able to turn around to someone and make sure everyone knew he knew more about Max then them. That he was the Max expert… so to not know something? About his Max?! That wouldn’t do at all…)

“You don’t seem too thrilled about the omega,” Charles said carefully, stepping closer and obviously fishing for information.

Max didn’t look at him. “I don’t see why everyone’s making such a big deal out of it. We’ve been fine without one.” If he realised that Charles was so obviously looking for answers he made no comment. But he didn’t lean close to Charles like he usually would. And he didn’t relax his shoulders like would usually happen the moment he caught Charles’s scent.

Charles tilted his head, studying the Dutchman’s profile, eyes flicking across his tense form. “Fine, maybe. But packs are better with an omega. You know that.”

Max’s jaw tightened. “We don’t need one.”

“Maybe you don’t,” Charles said, his voice soft, “but the rest of us-”

“The pack's fine!” Max snapped, turning to face him. 

Charles blinked, startled by the sudden fire in Max’s eyes and the growl that threatened to rip up out of his throat. For a moment, he thought he saw something scared beneath Max’s anger, but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, so fast that Charles was convinced he was seeing things.

“Forget it,” Max muttered, shouldering past Charles and quickly walking away. Once again, they both ignored the spark that lept in their chests at the contact. Charles watched as Max walked away down the alleyway, his eyes never left the other Man’s retreating form and stared long after he disappeared around the corner.

But what Charles didn’t see was that the moment Max dropped to his knees, collapsing against the wall with tears filling his eyes. His back against the wall, his head dropped into his hands. It wasn’t fair.

I t wasn’t fair!

He deserved that. This should be for him! All for him! That wonderful place, with the wonderful cushions and blankets and all those gifts and all that love… That should be his!

But it wasn’t.

The day the nest room was completed, and all the drivers had gathered to admire it. Max was one of the last in. He moved slowly, dragging his feet at every step to the point that his shoes were almost scuffed yet the moment he stepped in, his eyes widened just as everyone else’s had. Though he had seen the plans drafted up by the FIA, though he had heard what they were planning to do, and knew that this was going to be perfect… yet it was somehow so much more to see it in real life.

The moment he stepped into the nesting room, Max found himself transported to what must have been his dearest dreams. The room… it was just… incredible! It was somewhere of just unrivalled indulgence. An area designed to provide not just a safe space but a luxury experience, one that pure indulgence with no expense spared. Somewhere that you couldn’t merely write about, but you had to see it to experience it. 

And when he stepped forward, through the doorway? His shoulders relaxed immediately, dropping tension he didn’t even realise he was carrying. The air was so neutral as well, but in a way that would be perfect to fill with the scents of his pack… oh how wonderful it would smell!

The lighting was gentle as well, just enough that someone would be able to read comfortably, but none of the harsh white found in other FIA buildings. This light was warm and gentle, bathing the room in a subtle golden glow that would be amazing to nap in…

As Max’s eyes continued to take in the room, to take in what could have been his… to take in what he would have to watch be handed to someone else… he felt how perfect everything was.

The layout of the room practically called people to sink into the warmth, a welcome beacon of home. At the centre, the floor dipped into a huge conversation pit, the heart of the space, that was completely filled with more soft-looking mattresses than Max could count, completely covering the floor. None of the soft - the oh so soft - carpeting was visible, that's how many mattresses there were. And it wasn’t like the pit was small or shallow by any means.

The soft cushions artfully placed upon the mattresses were arranged in a casual yet oh so inviting manner, so many that each member of the pack could claim enough to bury themselves and there would still be many left over, in such a way that gave the pack the freedom to sprawl, nestle, or curl up in whichever way feels most natural. Some were shaped like clouds, others like soft, plump rectangles, offering an endless array of options for comfort, whether people wanted to lie down, lean back, or even create a cosy fort. Max wanted them all.

And amidst the soft cushions? Linens and sheets and blankets, all in neutral, calming tones - deep, rich creams, soft greys, and warm, dusty pinks - that perfectly balanced the rich jewel tones of the pillows. A scattering of thick, knitted throws draped casually across the top of the conversation pit. There were blankets in every texture imaginable: plush faux furs, heavy woven wool, and soft, knitted cotton. It took every shred of control Max had meticulously developed over the years to stop himself from nesting with them immediately. 

And as he was finally able to tear his gaze from the wonderful area to nest (that another omega would be claiming, that would never be his), his eyes were drawn to the walls.

Plush carpeted floor to duck egg blue ceiling, each of the four walls was lined with towering bookshelves. And the shelves didn’t just hold books - they were also packed with boxes of snacks, stored neatly yet within easy reach. There’s a snack for every mood, and every craving, from salty chips and crisps to sweet pastries, chocolates, and dried fruits, all easily accessible when hunger strikes during moments of relaxation. Bar upon bar of kinder was tucked into the baskets… Max’s favourite.

Among the books and snack boxes, strategically placed fun-shaped lamps light up the room. In a range of playful designs - stars, moons, soft clouds, and whimsical animals, the lamps cast gentle pools of light throughout the space, pale pastel in colour. The soft glow of colour they emitted wasn’t enough to overshadow the golden hue though, as golden fairy lights were strung across the entire room, zig-zagging their way across the ceiling. Some delicate strands even wrapped their way around the shelves, draped across the walls, and some even hung down from the ceiling like glowing vines. 

As he continued to glance around, Max spotted several large, soft rugs around the edges of the room. Their fibres woven in intricate patterns, with rich jewel tones matching those of the pillows perfectly. 

As Max stepped further into the space, he noticed yet more luxuries (that he wouldn’t get to have, that weren’t his) - in one corner, a console setup with video games, a modern, sleek TV screen mounted on the wall, and controllers neatly arranged. In another corner a selection of board games was neatly stacked, organized by theme and type, something for every kind of player. 

It was a beautiful room…

It was a perfect room…

And it would never be Max’s.

“It feels… nice,” Lewis said, running a hand over the soft fabrics as he curled up into the conversation pits, a few blankets already pulled on top of him. He seemed on the verge of sleep.

“Comfortable,” Oscar agreed, browsing the bookshelves, a few books already forming a pile in his arms.

Charles stepped inside, inhaling deeply. The room felt warm, inviting. He could almost imagine the pack’s omega there, bringing the pack together, their wonderful, warm scent drifting around the room. 

Max returned to linger outside the door, refusing to step back in. The pull was unbearable. Every fibre of his being wanted to claim the room, to sink into the softness and let himself be vulnerable for once. But he couldn’t.

He wouldn’t.

This wasn’t his room to claim.

And it never would be.

Chapter Text

The days turned into weeks, and the omega’s arrival was somehow still a complete mystery. Not a word had been spoken to anyone, driver or team principal. Yet somehow this was only building the anticipation. Somehow, they just became even more restless, their instincts heightened in the anticipation.

Max and the betas found themselves breaking up more fights each day as the alphas bickered over the smallest details. Who had the nicest scent… who had the best gifts for the omega… everything was a point of competition now.

And Max, when he wasn’t breaking up the fights, found himself retreating further and further into his mind. Or rather, he was trying to distance himself from his mind, where his instincts were bubbling away. The nest room, that wonderful, perfect room, was a constant reminder of what he could never have. And it was all the more annoying when his instincts began to whisper that perhaps this could be his. That all he would have to do was reveal his identity, that there wasn’t yet an omega stepping into the pack… it could very easily be him… 

Max ignored the voice. 

It was too late to tell the pack now. 

There was already another omega joining.

Then finally, the day the omega was due to join the pack had arrived. And oh how excited everyone was! The drivers had assembled in the hospitality suite, everyone appearing an hour before they were supposed to as nerves filled them all. They were almost bouncing off the walls, their eyes darting towards the door with every creak.

The FIA was about to introduce the new omega.

This was it! They were going to be meeting the missing piece of their pack in just a few seconds! Everyone was so excited, all lingering as close as they could to the door as they could. 

Well…

Almost all.

Max stood separate to the rest of the group. He leaned against the furthest wall, his arms crossed tight against his chest (Was it aggressive? Standoffish? Or was he trying to find the hugs that he had never been given?) and his expression unreadable. 

Though his heart was racing the same as the rest of the packs, his wasn’t with excitement. No, his heart raced with fear. This was going to be it. The new omega was going to step in and… and his pack would be gone. He’d been the pack omega here for years (not that he’d ever admitted that, of course) and they were just going to take his pack away from him. Just like that. 

And there wasn’t going to be anything he’d be able to do about it. Because of course the pack needed an omega. 

The missing piece, thats what the FIA had called this new omega in that long meeting all those months ago. They had called them a vital addition, dearly needed to bring stability and balance to the pack. 

A real omega. Officially recognized and more than capable of stepping into the role they were born for. 

A symbol of unity…

A leader for them all…

Something Max could never be.

He swallowed hard, the knot in his stomach somehow tightening even more, though that hardly seemed possible, as his eyes darted around his packmates. His jaw clenched, teeth grinding together as he forced himself to stay still, to look calm and completely unaffected. 

This was just meeting an omega.

Just an omega joining the pack..

Nothing special.

But it was.

He knew what was coming. He could already imagine the omega. Stern, perhaps? Almost definitely always composed. And they would surely have a commanding presence that would be able to silence the room the second they walked in. 

It would probably be a middle-aged woman or man. Someone with sharp eyes and unshakable confidence. Someone strong and steady. Someone who would earn the pack’s respect in minutes. Someone they would rally around without hesitation.

 Someone the pack would absolutely adore.

And why wouldn’t they? The new omega would be everything Max could never be. Open. Accepted. Free to take their place as the pack omega without hiding, without fear! They’d be able to offer comfort without needing to disguise it, speak without second-guessing themselves. They wouldn’t have to lie every second of every day like Max did.

He shifted slightly, his fingers curling into his palm, so tight that pale crescents formed, a few drops of blood almost appearing. 

He was a very good liar. 

A very good liar.

Not out of choice though. More because no one can ever know. He’d spent years perfecting his disguise, spend far too many hours keeping his instincts buried, forcing himself to act like an alpha or at least a strong beta. (Everyone thought he was an alpha, the idea of a beta hadn’t even been a flicker in their mind). It was never easy. Not when his every instinct screamed at him to do more, screamed at him to help, to offer reassurance to the pack the way he always had in the shadows. 

The was he’d always acted quietly…

Acted invisibly…

This omega wouldn’t have to do any of that.

No, they were going to walk in, were going to take their place at the centre of the pack (take Max’s place), and everything would surely fall into place around them. Max could already see how life was going to go after this point. The pack would welcome the new omega with open arms. The omega would able to calm tempers with a single glance, be able to give the pack purpose with a few well-chosen words.

The alphas would surely be at the new omega’s side constantly, protective and proud (Like they never quite were with Max, because why would they be protective over the head alpha…). The betas would seek their approval, hanging on every word. This new omega would bring order to their chaos in a way no one ever had before.

And Max?

Max would be forgotten. Or forced to play the role of head alpha the rest of his life. 

He didn’t know which was worse…

Bitter bile rose in his throat, and he fought the urge to let out a sobbing laugh. It was almost funny, in a cruel sort of way. Ironic, even. He’d spent years ( ten years, ten years of his life ) quietly holding the pack together, easing all their tensions, giving them stability without anyone even realizing it… And now that work was about to be erased in an instant.

They would never know what he had done for them. They’d probably never even stop to wonder about those odd urges that had happened all those years ago.

His place as the pack omega (unofficial of course, but Max’s instincts still were holding on with everything they could) would disappear without a trace, and no one would notice he was gone. No one would care.

Max told himself it didn’t matter. He wasn’t really the pack omega the first place, was he? Not really. He was a racer, nothing more. 

His job was to win, not to find comfort or belonging. 

He didn’t need any of that.

And yet, the thought of being replaced made his chest ache.

The drivers around him were still chatting, their excitement building as the minutes dragged on. None of them noticed him standing alone in the corner, not joining in, not sharing their enthusiasm. And why would they? They probably thought he was indifferent, too focused on racing to care about something like this.

Because that was how it had always been. Max Verstappen the lone wolf, the cold untouchable champion, the begrudging head alpha. They didn’t know about the cracks hidden under the surface. They didn’t know how badly he sometimes wanted to belong.

But it didn’t matter. 

He would survive this the same way he survived everything else

Alone.

He pictured the omega arriving. He could almost imagine each moment as his role of pack omega was ripped away from him.

The omega would walk though the door. Their voice would be so calm, yet somehow so authoritative as they would address the gathered drivers. Everyone would surely hang onto their every word, because of course the omega would know just what to say to each and every driver. They’d know just the right way to ease fears and doubts, and would be able to do it with a smile.

Everything Max tried to do. Everything he had been doing.

And now Max would have to stand on the outside. He’d have to watch it all unfold, pretending he didn’t care as his pack was ripped away from him.

Because he couldn’t risk caring.

He couldn’t risk anyone seeing the truth - not the drivers, not the team, not even the people he trusted most in Red Bull.

Christian and GP had always suspected something was different about Max, but they never pushed, never asked too many questions. And Max was grateful for that. He couldn’t afford to explain why he kept his distance, why he didn’t join the pack the way the others did. (Even if he wished for people to pry, for people to care enough about him to check in and make sure he was alright)

Because truth was dangerous. It would strip away everything he had worked for - his reputation, his career, his control. And once it was gone, there would be no getting it back. Omegas got given everything, he’d never have to fight for a championship again.

And not fighting? Not being able to race properly?

What was the point in that?

The minutes ticked by. 

The time was growing nearer and nearer.

The tension in the room was rising and rising.

And then the doors opened.

And Max was no longer the pack omega.

Chapter Text

 The door opened with a soft creak.

The omega stepped in.

All the heads in the room turned in sync, eyes locking onto the new figure. For a moment, there was complete silence as every conversation died in an instant.

She stood in the doorway, her shoulders hunched slightly as if trying to make herself even smaller, her impossibly wide eyes flickering nervously over the group of waiting for her. If Max hadn’t known she was their new omega, he would have probably mistaken her for a lost intern. 

She looked incredibly young. Barely twenty… perhaps not even that. There was an innocence about her, something raw and fragile that seemed entirely out of place in the paddock’s polished world of sharp suits and steely-eyed confidence.

Her clothes were simple, almost adorably so. A knitted maroon sweater with sleeves that puffed out only to end up tight around the wrist. It was slightly too large for her frame, just hanging off her shoulder enough for the white blouse with a little yellow embroidered flower on the collar to be seen. The dark blue pinafore dress she wore had the circle skirt ending just above her knees, a small lace trim on the end, and a set of white Mary Jane shoes (polished to perfection) on her feet that looked more suited to a day in the city than the hectic F1 paddock.

Her hair was loose, a tumble of dark blonde waves that fell around her shoulders, with a few strands pinned back with white flower-shaped clips, the tiny yellow stones embedded on them catching the light as she shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.

Her eyes (a bright blue-grey) darted around the room with quick precision, taking everything in at once. They were sharp and observant, but their brightness dulled slightly as she realised all the eyes were fixed upon her.

Even her makeup seemed tentative, like she wasn’t quite sure how to apply it. Pale pink lip gloss caught the light when she nervously pressed her lips together, a hint of mascara that somehow managed to make her eyes look even wider, and the faintest dusting of blush on her cheeks that seemed more accidental than intentional.

She looked… soft.

Fragile, even.

Like she’d stepped out of a university library, not into a room full of racing drivers.

Max’s chest tightened as he watched her. 

She wasn’t…

She wasn’t the omega she’d been expecting. In fact, she was quite possibly the opposite of what he was expecting.

No stern, commanding presence. 

No sharp words or knowing gaze.

Just a nervous young woman, standing in front of them with trembling hands and a forced smile, trying to be brave in the face of overwhelming attention.

( Poor baby , his instincts cooed, my poor baby. )

And alongside Max’s instincts, the pack’s instincts stirred immediately as well. A ripple of interest swept through the room like a hurricane. The alphas straightened up, their expressions softening as they took in the newcomer. The beta’s leaned forward as well, noses twitching to try and take in her scent. The tension in the air shifted.

She would be absolutely adored, Max realised with a sinking feeling. Not for the reasons he had imagined, but adored nonetheless.

Oh, how the pack would fall over themselves to protect her… They would offer her comfort, guidance, and every bit of support she needed. Everything would be just perfect for her to be the omega of the pack… And Max would be left behind, forgotten once again.

He clenched his jaw and forced himself to look away from the way everyone seemed to be creeping towards the omega. He tried to ignore the growing ache in his chest that was torn between demanding he pulled the little omega close to him and yelling at him to get rid of the intruder into his pack. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t listen to either instinct.

He had never been part of the pack, not really. There was no place for him here - there never had been. And it was hardly like he could start doting over this omega without getting into a fight with another alpha.

But as much as he told himself that,he  reminded his instincts to stay in the tiny box he’d locked them away in in his mind… He couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling of loss.

The omega took a deep breath, her hands clenching at her sides as she squared her shoulders. Max noticed the way she straightened, noticed the way determination flickered to life in her eyes despite the nervous tension still visible in her frame. The tremble in her hands stilled, and her forced smile softened into something more deliberate. It was clear that she was determined not to let her nerves rule her. 

Not here.

Not now.

And Max could see it happening, could see the moment she decided to shift her behaviour, to take control of the room despite her obvious inexperience. It was subtle at first, her chin lifted just a fraction higher, her posture no longer shrinking inward but standing taller, feet planted firmly beneath her. She took one step forward, then another, her footsteps light but deliberate, each one seeming to ground her more securely. (Her hands trembled behind her back. Her breathing was slightly shaky in a way that only Max could notice)

“Hello,” she smiled, her voice soft but steady. It wasn’t commanding in the way Max had imagined, yet it carried a quiet strength all its own. The strength that all omegas possessed. “I am honoured to be here with all of you. I know it’s unusual… but I’ll do my best!”

Her eyes swept across the room as she spoke, meeting each pack members gaze in turn. There was no challenge in her stare, only sincerity. She was cautious but not meek, composed in a way that suggested she had learned to hide her unease well. (Had the FIA given her any training before thrusting her into meeting the pack? Had they given her any warning? Any information on the pack? Anything at all?)

Max watched the rest of the pack begin to smile, shifting slightly in their seats, their eyes softening as they took in her words. He could already see the way the pack bonds were taking effect already, could see the way they leaned into her presence, ready to support her at the slightest indication she needed it. He could see how they weren’t even trying to fight it - their instincts were already urging them towards her.

His stomach twisted.
It was all too easy for her.

(Max failed to notice how the drivers never quite fully leaned into her - how they still hesitated, how they still were wary. He didn’t notice how none of the pack had relaxed yet, how there was still caution and danger in all of their eyes. He just saw someone taking his place.)

He gritted his teeth and forced himself to watch, unwilling to look away now. She had to push down her nerves now, sure, but that hesitation wouldn’t last for long. The pack would make sure it didn’t. They’d ease her into her role, give her every bit of reassurance and comfort she needed. She’d have a place here - their omega, just like that.

The dark pit of jealousy settled deeper in his chest. Not because he wanted their attention or comfort - he’d given up on that long ago - but because it had taken him years of isolation and silent endurance to carve out even a tiny space for himself in this world. And here she was, stepping into it without a second thought.

(She hadn’t stepped into it. She was still very much on the outside of the pack, not yet let through the heavily guarded gates… The pack acknowledged her existence and her appearance may have created a slightly protective approach from some of the older drivers, but she was still very much an outsider.)

He could already see the future unfolding. She would become the glue that held the pack together, a constant source of warmth and light they couldn’t resist. She wouldn’t have to prove herself over and over, the way Max always had. She wouldn’t be doubted or questioned or dismissed.

And as omega continued to speak, her voice grew more confident with each word, her nervousness gradually melting away as she found her footing. There was something magnetic about her, not the overpowering kind of charm that demanded attention, but the quieter, subtler kind that made people lean in, wanting to hear more.

And they would. Max could already see it. He swallowed hard, his eyes fluttering shut as he tried to push the thought away. 

It shouldn’t matter. 

It didn’t matter.

But the ache in his chest only grew.

It wasn’t fair. Not the situation, not the way she had walked into a world that had always felt so cold and unwelcoming to him and somehow made it warm just by standing there. It wasn’t fair. But the world wasn’t fair. 

The omega ( What was her name? Had she mentioned it when Max wasn’t listening? ) finished speaking and glanced around the room again, waiting for a response. There was a pause - only a second or two, but it felt like an eternity - before Lewis smiled and offered her a reassuring nod.

“All we ask is that you do your best,” he said warmly. 

(His eyes were guarded, his shoulders were tensed and his smile was that little bit too sharp.)

Max folded his arms tightly across his chest, his nails digging into his palms as he leaned back against the wall. His usual blank expression was plastered firmly on his face, pretending he didn’t care, that it was all the same to him if the omega was accepted or not. Because of corse it didn’t. He was the head alpha, it wasn’t like he needed any balancing…

But inside, he could feel the ground shifting beneath him, his place in the fragile balance of the pack slipping further and further away. Something in his instincts was sobbing. Crying out for him to fight the new omega, for him to reclaim his pack… he ignored it though, that wasn’t his problem. Or his pack.

She was here now. And that was that.

(None of the pack had relaxed yet.)