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When he was younger, Max would hear his father disdainfully comment about the Grid Pack. Jos called them weak for needing comfort to the point of seeking it from their rivals. To Jos Verstappen, only the weak were incapable of fighting their instincts.
A sarcastic smile spreads across the blonde's face as he looks around. His nose quickly picks up the scent of his mate —vanilla with a barely noticeable hint of cinnamon—among the other pack members. Max smiles at his ability to perfectly distinguish each of his pack mates through their scents.
Orange for Carlos.
Roses for Lando.
Sea breeze for Pierre and smoke for Yuki.
Coffee biscuits for Lewis and honey cookies for Daniel.
Strawberries for George…
Chocolate for Oscar…
And… his nostrils flare as a foreign scent emerges among the familiar aromas of his companions. A threatening growl erupts from his chest, immediately cutting through the peace of the room and making everyone stare at him in shock.
"Maxie? What's wrong?... Max!" Charles gasps when his mate pushes him back into the nest as he tries to approach. The Dutch alpha furiously stares at the door as if expecting an armed intruder to invade.
“What’s going on, mate?” Carlos approaches the nest but doesn’t attempt to enter or touch the disturbed alpha. The Spaniard simply hovers protectively near his own mate. “What made you react like this?”
“An intruder.” Max grunts, struggling due to his elongated canines. Carlos' dark eyes narrow, but his nostrils also flare. The dark-haired alpha can smell it too. “There’s someone hovering on the other side.”
“Yes.” Carlos mutters, looking at Lando, who grabs his hand. “My love, don’t leave here, alright?” he asks cautiously.
“Who is it, Carlos?” Lando asks fearfully.
“Max! I swear if you growl at me again, you’ll spend your next rut alone!” Charles scolds his alpha, dodging his hand when he again tries to push him back into the nest. Max bares his teeth threateningly, but the Monegasque just smiles as if he were a cute little puppy.
Timid knocks sound at the door. The only four pack members who weren’t sleeping exchange glances. Max snaps but can’t stop his stubborn omega when he takes the lead and approaches the door.
The smell of milk.
The scent of a pup.
Max feels his canines retract the moment Oliver Bearman's frightened face appears. Charles’ furious hiss at him is like a punch to the alpha’s stomach. He feels ashamed for not thinking of the Ferrari rookie first. The pup clings to Charles as if he were terrified.
"Ollie! Sweetheart, what happened?" Charles coos, feeling the younger one tremble like a leaf in his arms. "Ollie!" he insists when the pup only sobs against his shoulder. The omega's hand rises to stroke the pup between the shoulder blades. The scent of milk is sour, making all the adults’ noses wrinkle.
“Cha…Charles.” Oliver chokes, wiping his eyes. The pout is not lost. He seems ready to burst into tears at any moment. “I’m broken,” he cries in broken sobs again.
Max’s eyes widen at the outburst. Lando whimpers softly. “Who told you that sh...thing, Oliver?” Charles demands with a murderous look. “I want names!”
“It’s… the truth, isn’t it? That’s why everyone from my year has already presented, and I still smell like a pup.” Oliver presses closer to the omega.
“Of course not, Ollie!” Charles exclaims, horrified, pulling the younger one to sit with him on the sofa. The omega doesn’t think twice as he pulls the younger one to lie on his chest. Nor does the pup think before burying his face in the omega’s breasts. For a few minutes, everything finally seems calm. But it doesn’t take long for Oliver to realize how childish his actions were and stop rubbing his nose against Charles’ chest. New tears well up in the pup’s eyes.
“Hey, Ollie.” Lando leaves the nest with Carlos’ help. “You don’t need to stress about these things. I only presented at 21. Nico… Rosberg only presented at 23. You’ve got plenty of time.”
“But… but…” Ollie stammers between tears, twisting Charles’ shirt tighter in his fist. The Monegasque purrs at the distressed pup, making him whimper louder but relax. “I’m a failure.”
“That’s not true,” Carlos says confidently. “Kimi is still a pup. And he’s very proud of it. Even Aaron, who recently presented, hasn’t lost the scent.”
“But… but…”
“Okay.” Max intervenes, approaching his omega and the pup nestled in his arms. “You know what, Ollie? You’re not a freak for being a pup and doing pup things at seventeen. You know that, and it wasn’t your friends who made you think that,” he adds more sternly. Oliver whimpers, hiding in Charles’ chest. He feels exactly like a pup being scolded by his sire.
“Alpha, you’re distressing the pup,” Charles scolds, scenting Oliver maternally. Oliver places a hand on his right breast, just resting it there, but anyone present intuitively understands what the pup needed. “Come on. Can I feed you, sweetheart?”
“Not a baby.” Oliver pouts.
Charles smiles lovingly, accepting Lando’s help to lift his shirt and lower his bra. The pup’s eyes gaze at him hungrily, but Ollie resists. Charles sings softly, signaling the others to step back. Ollie relaxes more when he sees no one else hovering in his field of vision. “Not a baby,” he repeats softly, almost whimpering.
“Just a pup,” Charles whispers affectionately, feeling the younger one finally give in to his instincts and feed. The sour scent of the pup disappears entirely as his stomach fills.
Max’s fingers hover over his omega’s shoulder, never daring to touch for fear of waking Oliver from his “milk nap” or irritating Charles. The alpha feels warmed by the sight. Charles always had that maternal touch, but Max had never seen him act this way until Oscar entered their lives and later introduced them to Oliver.
“Max?” The groggy voice of the young Australian alpha makes the Dutchman open his eyes wide. Oscar looks confused but frightened by the sight of Oliver. “Why is Ollie here? Wasn’t he training for tomorrow?”
“Ollie had a tough day, Osc,” Max says carefully.
“I can see that. What happened?” he retorts petulantly.
Charles’ green eyes snap in his direction like a whip. “Don’t talk to your sire like that, Oscar!” he scolds severely, making the Australian blush with embarrassment and lower his head. Ollie whimpers, sensing Charles’ mood change. The omega coos at the younger one, guiding him to his shoulder. “Shush, sweetheart. Easy now,” he whispers gently.
Oliver sniffs on the omega’s shoulder. The sweet scent of Charles is the closest to a biologically maternal smell he’s ever felt, given that both his parents are betas. He can feel Max’s presence and the sweet scent of Oscar hovering. “Maxie? Oscie?” he mutters groggily, refusing to let go of his embrace with Charles.
“Hey, Ollie./Hey, buddy.” Both alphas respond in unison. Oscar awkwardly hovers in front of Charles until Max huffs and pulls him to sit on his lap. The younger alpha’s squeak makes Ollie laugh softly, and Charles smile.
For a few minutes, the four of them just stay in silence. Oliver is almost asleep again, comfortable as he is in Charles’ lap. Oscar seems quite entertained watching TikToks, and Max is content with having one arm over his sleepy omega’s shoulders and the other hovering over the one he subconsciously sees as his first pup.
A low growl disrupts the peace of the little “family.” Charles quickly opens his eyes. Max cranes his neck to look sharply at Oscar. Ollie continues snoring peacefully on Charles’ shoulder, completely oblivious to the furious look Oscar is giving him. “Hey! You don’t growl at Oliver!” Max pinches the back of Oscar’s neck in warning, making the younger alpha shrink. “What was that?”
“Look! Is this why he was upset, wasn’t it?” Oscar almost throws the phone in Charles’ face. Max growls louder at the disrespect shown to his omega. He seems ready to turn Oscar over his knee if he continues acting up. Charles’ eyes fall on the TikTok, a video clearly recorded by fans.
In the video, you can see Ollie walking with his F2 companions, laughing and everything seemingly normal until someone from the stands starts shouting that pups should make way for real adults, like Arthur Leclerc, to race. They can see Ollie tried to ignore it, but as more and more fans joined in, not only he but also the other younger drivers were escorted inside. The amateur videographer zooms in on the stands, and Arthur can be seen standing there.
“This is bullshit,” Charles hisses, holding Oliver tighter. The pup complains about the omega’s grip, waking up confused. Oliver blinks, dazed. He feels the weight of Max and Oscar’s stares right in his face and Charles’ hand resting on his nape, pushing him against his shoulder as if wishing to keep him there forever. “Oliver, you know my brother doesn’t resent you… or any other pup in F2.”
Oliver cringes at the omega’s harsh words. He makes to turn his face away to avoid looking at any of them, but Charles prevents him. Max reaches out towards him. The alpha’s hand brushes against Ollie’s cheek. “You deserve to be here, pup. No matter what those idiots say. You worked hard, and now you’re reaping the rewards, understood?” His voice is authoritative but calm. Ollie feels tears welling up in his eyes.
“Remember when I was still in F2?” Oscar speaks softly. Oliver sniffles, nodding. “I promised you that if I got here, you would too. Don’t you think we deserve to be here?”
“It’s not the same,” Ollie sobs, and this time Charles doesn’t stop him from hiding in him. Max holds Oscar’s waist, preventing him from throwing himself at Oliver. “You’re an alpha! You were presenting when you started! They put me in to race when I don’t even know if I’m an omega, a beta, or an alpha! They threw me in like cannon fodder! And now everyone expects me to be like you!” He explodes. “Not fair! Not fair, Charlie!” He pulls away from the omega and makes a huge pout.
Charles coos. He can’t help how his body reacts to the sight of a distressed pup. Especially one he’s come to see as his own. “No, Ollie. It’s not fair.” He sighs, wiping away the pup’s tears with his thumbs. “But Oscar’s right. You both deserve to be here. You should have been prepared psychologically; it was Ferrari’s mistake, but no one expected Carlos to fall ill, did we?”
“Not fair!”
“Not fair, Ollie.” Charles sighs, reading the younger pup’s stubbornness like an expert. He wasn’t going anywhere with this. “Let’s take a nap,” he carefully suggests, adjusting the pup’s body on his and standing up.
“No! No nap!”
“Ollie!” Max scolds the pup when several sleeping pack members are startled awake by the screams. Oliver screams louder, burying his face in Charles’ neck. “Oliver Bearman!”
“Max!” Charles hisses at the alpha, silencing him. “Sorry, guys. Our Ollie isn’t having an easy day.” He warns, cradling the younger one tenderly.
“Poor pup.” George rubs his sleepy eyes. Nico Rosberg laughs softly but helps him sit up. “Come in.”
Oliver’s eyes blink. He feels Charles’ arms gently squeezing his body and guiding him to enter the nest with him. The smiles of the pilots already inside warm the rookie’s heart. He feels welcomed.
But he doesn’t belong…
His body is maneuvered by gentle hands. His head rests on Charles’ chest, and his back is pressed by someone smelling of rain and lemon and mint. Maxie.
“Close your eyes, pup.”
“It’s going to be okay, baby Bear.” Oscar’s confident smile is the last thing he sees before falling asleep.