Fever Dream - spicy F1 fanfiction- LeclercxVerstappenxSargeant AU

On track

The next morning, Logan woke up, staring at the ceiling as he tried to process the night before. It felt like a wild, vivid dream, but the stack of money on his nightstand told him otherwise. He couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

He got out of bed, deciding that he should treat his roommate, Oscar, to a fancy dinner. Maybe leave out some of the finer details, though. They both deserved it.

Oscar was in front of the TV, watching some motorsport race as Logan walked into the living room. Logan sat down next to him, grinning.

"Osc, you'll never believe what happened last night. Let's go out for dinner—"

"Mate, hold on, it's almost the end." Oscar shushed him, eyes glued to the screen. Logan sighed and turned his attention to the TV, where three cars were pulling into the final stretch.

A few minutes later, Oscar cheered as the race ended. Logan turned to him, still buzzing with the need to share his crazy story. He never really cared for F1, at least not more than for a good dinner.

"No, seriously, Oscar. Let's go to that place you've been talking about. I got a huge tip last night, enough to cover it."

Oscar finally looked away from the TV, confused. "What? We both agreed we couldn't afford that place. It's insanely expensive." The younger man raised an eyebrow.

Logan was about to explain when he glanced back at the screen. His heart stopped. Standing on the podium non other than the blues eyes that stared at him last night – Max Something?

"Wait...This cant. What is this? Who is that?" Logan was speechless.

Oscar rolled his eyes "Come one, I've been talking about this for months. The F1 GP?" He huffed "Just finished. Great race, you missed it."

Leclerc. Sure enough, the camera pans to the top step. Green eyes, dimples, flushed pink. Charles stands there, beaming. All thoughts of fancy dinners and rent and everything leave his mind. The two people yesterday, in the car–

The champagne celebrations begin, and if Logan didn't know any better, he might think it was just friendly fun. But he does know better, and the way the champagne drips down Max's hand as Charles tilts his head back to drink it feels far too familiar.

The third-place finisher stands under the British flag, awkwardly chewing his lip as he watches whatever is unfolding between Max and Charles before he reluctantly joins in the spray.

Logan can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the guy. He knows exactly what it's like to get caught up in the whirlwind of those two.

Shaking his head, Logan turns away from the screen, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Dinner's on me tonight, Osc," he says, standing up. "And trust me, I've got one hell of a story to tell you."

Logan stops by the apartment mailboxes after his run. He grabs the usual—a few envelopes, Oscar's magazine, and some junk mail—before heading upstairs. Oscar's glued to the TV, watching another race. Logan is now, apparently, a Formula 1 fan too.

People often ask if he got into it because of that Netflix show, and he usually nods, mentioning that his roommate is a fan. But only Oscar, and maybe Max and Charles, know the real story. Logan roots for Red Bull just to annoy Oscar, who's all about McLaren. But the truth is, Logan's obsession comes from something far more intimate—he can't stop thinking about that wild night with Max and Charles.

When Logan had finally told Oscar about it, Oscar was speechless. They were out for the fancy dinner, the one Logan insisted they save for when he could afford expensive champagne. Oscar, always so composed, squealed in delight as Logan relived the whole thing, detail by detail. It was embarrassing, sure, but Logan couldn't deny the thrill of sharing it. Their bill that night was through the roof.

Now, Logan watches every race. He has to, just for a chance to see them again.

Its the first race  he really watches, and Oscar won't stop talking about it since it's in Melbourne, his hometown. Logan joked that if he gets Max and Charles in his taxi again this time, the tip might just cover a trip for Oscar to watch it in person. They both laughed at the thought. Only a few races had passed, but it was all Logan needed to feel desperate to see the couple again.

The race is alright. Logan doesn't understand much, no matter how many times Oscar explains—pit stops, tire compounds, flags, whatever. He gets the basics but is really just there for the drivers. He imagines the poor taxi driver who might find themselves in the same situation he did, and he has to focus hard not to let his thoughts distract him too much during the race.

As he absentmindedly sorts through the mail later that week, something catches his eye—a letter addressed to him. It's heavier than usual. He opens it, expecting another credit card offer, but what he finds inside makes him freeze.

"Oscar..."

Oscar turns, and Logan holds up two lanyards with the unmistakable Red Bull logo. They can't be real. Oscar snatches the letter and reads aloud, excitement bursting from him.

"We look forward to welcoming you and your guest to the Red Bull hospitality at the fourth annual Crypto.com Miami Grand Prix!"

Logan and Oscar are in disbelief, frantically checking the details to confirm it's not a prank. Everything checks out. The contact number leads to Oracle Red Bull Racing, the QR code to the Miami GP website. The paddock passes are real.

They spend the rest of the weekend brushing up on their F1 knowledge, staying up late for recaps and old races, just to feel like they're preparing for something huge. Every now and then, one of them will say, "Can you believe that'll be us soon?" and they'll both freak out all over again.

When the Miami weekend finally arrives, the energy is electric. They buy Red Bull shirts to fit in, but Oscar sneaks on a "Let's Go Lando" bracelet, and Logan might have one that says "Forza Ferrari." Maybe.

"It's not even fair," Oscar complains as they approach the VIP entrance. "You didn't even care about F1 until now."

Logan grins. "I care now. Besides, be glad I chose you to come."

Oscar looks at him, serious. "If you'd picked anyone else, I'd have fled the country."

They spend the day exploring the paddock, feeling out of place but thrilled to be there. Oscar even gets Lando to sign his hat, which makes his day.

The day ends with nothing major happen -it was thursday anyways- and they head back, trying to process the fact that they'll be here for the race tomorrow. Logan can't stop talking about it, and neither can Oscar, even as they're stuck in traffic. They joke about tracking down which club the drivers will be partying at, with Oscar pretending to search for local gay bars for celebrities.

The next day is even more chaotic. The paddock is packed, but they manage to find a spot in the Red Bull hospitality. Logan tries to spot Max to thank him for the tickets, but it's impossible with the crowd.

Oscar decides to wander off, leaving Logan to snap some photos. He wonders if he should post them but hesitates, unsure how to explain how he got the passes.