Ship/Member: mingyu, minghao, jeonghan, seokmin, implied gyuhao Major Tags: n/a Additional Tags: f1 au, sports are Intricate Rituals constructed by homosexuality, rivalries Permission to remix: Yes
finally my years of watching f1 and brief caratism has paid off. i am so sorry this was not seokmin centric op i will make it up to you
***
The Weekend of the Belgian Grand Prix
The pit-lane was crowded, because of course it was. Minghao obediently held the front right-wing tyre cover and tried not to make eye contact with Mingyu.
The world's most expensive blankets, he thought, staring down at the tyre cover as it continued to warm up the tyre in front of him.
Mingyu was currently staring ahead into the distance. His visor had not yet been put down, so Minghao gave Mingyu an awkward smile.
Minghao always enjoyed the silence before races. Everyone was hyperfocused and on edge, and he enjoyed the way his mind would eventually filter itself, only surrounding itself with a possible win on the horizon. Some choice tracks of his were playing overhead as the garage slowed itself down to focus on the steady heartbeat of the car.
If mechanics were the vessels leading towards the centre, then the driver was at the very core of it all; its grotesque and still-beating heart. Endless hours pored over setups wouldn't matter if the driver was an absolute tit and fucked it all up.
Don't fuck it up, everyone seemed to say, eyeing Mingyu warily, displeased at the way he'd spun out during his last outlap during their last Free Practice. The steady thudding beat of a house track pulsated throughout the garage, waiting to burst.
With eleven minutes left in Q1 of Qualifying, Minghao's fellow mechanics released their tyre blankets and watched Mingyu exit the pit lane with absolute certainty.
Seokmin, Jeonghan's mechanic, was currently chewing gum as he talked with two hands shoved in his racing suit. He clapped Minghao on the shoulder. "What do you think?
Minghao raised his eyebrows. "About what?"
"Tomorrow's race."
Currently, Jeonghan was projected to do better than Mingyu by the pundits. Minghao gazed into the distance. "Some rivalry can't hurt us, can it?"
***
Mingyu returned, frustrated, eyeing the screen.
P7, it said.
"It's Q1, mate, no worries about it," another mechanic said, and Minghao was inclined to agree. There was no point pushing the car to its limits in the first quarter, after all, when there were two more to go. The final battle would only begin then.
Mingyu just made a frustrated gesture towards his steering wheel instead.
Minghao looked at him. "Is there a problem?"
"No there fucking isn't," Mingyu said.
"Hurry up, mate, out with your complaints, we don't have all day," Rusty said, eyeing him with disdain. Rusty was a middle-aged mechanic from Milton Keynes who liked to proclaim that he was far too old for the shenanigans of a young Korean.
"There...was a lot of understeer right before Radillon," Mingyu said unhappily.
Drivers came up with a lot of excuses. Minghao was getting better at discerning whether they were genuine complaints with the car, or whether they were down to the driver. This time round, he couldn't tell.
He searched Mingyu's face for clues, but he came up with nothing. Mingyu's face remained impassive as ever. Minghao wanted to punch him. The thought was sudden and swift, but it winded him all the same.
"You listening to this?" Rusty said, brows raised.
Minghao nodded. Communicating with the Western mechanics seemed to involve a lot of swearing, so when they didn't swear, Minghao only felt as though he'd fucked up. There was also a problem with sarcasm, which he'd only learnt through being around them. Easy to mimic, hard to detect, he thought.
Their setup would have to be the same today as tomorrow's. If Mingyu was complaining about understeer this late in the game, Minghao could only pray to the gods for something to go their way the following day.
"Just make sure to extract what you can from the car," Minghao said. "Don't push yourself too hard."
Mingyu sneered at him, making Minghao break his gaze.
***
Mingyu’s suspicions weren't entirely unfounded, after all. Jeonghan managed to stay on top of him and other midfield teams such as in the standings, taking the car to its limits.
Jeonghan returned from Q2 smiling whilst Mingyu stayed in his car, stony-faced. P4 and P10, respectively. Mingyu had fallen in the standings. Had barely made it to Q3. Was a position away from being knocked out.
"Not gonna lie," Rusty said, lips quirked upwards, "I kind of wish he had gotten knocked out."
Minghao felt his brows shoot upwards. "Why?"
"So that he could've chosen his tyres for tomorrow instead of having to use the old ones from today."
Fuck, Rusty was right. Minghao schooled his features, trying to not let his disappointment bleed through. "You're right," Minghao muttered, suddenly displeased. If Mingyu was going to work shoddily, he might as well have made it easy for the rest of the team.
"Might be the suspension," Mingyu said, and in a matter of seconds, someone handed Minghao a canister of suspension polish. He sprayed it dutifully, making sure that all suspension components were covered.
Meanwhile, the other mechanics prepped the car by cleaning it and downloading data from it. Minghao gazed upon its umbilical cord and turned away. From here, he could spot Minhyuk squinting at the telemetry on the screen while sighing. They were supposed to compare data between the cars, of course, but the fact that he seemed upset was enough to make Minghao sweat.
He walked over to Minhyuk. "Did Jeonghan experience understeer in Radillon as well?"
Seokmin made a face. "No. Did he?" He gestured over to Mingyu, who was staring into nothing from the driver's cockpit.
"What do you think?"
"Honestly?" Seokmin paused for a moment.
Minghao nodded. "Yeah." They needed all the information they could get, after all, no matter how painful the truth.
"I think he's been sloppy all weekend while the car's been excellent."
The other mechanics seemed to think so, too. Jeonghan had been performing at a stellar pace as well. Great, Minghao thought. Fantastic, even.
***
Qualifying ended with their spots being firmly in place. Jeonghan, P4. Mingyu, dead last among the group.
"You made it to Q3, well done," Minghao managed to say, finally. Mingyu took one look at him and turned away.
[FILL] FORM
Major Tags: n/a
Additional Tags: f1 au, sports are Intricate Rituals constructed by homosexuality, rivalries
Permission to remix: Yes
finally my years of watching f1 and brief caratism has paid off. i am so sorry this was not seokmin centric op i will make it up to you
***
The Weekend of the Belgian Grand Prix
The pit-lane was crowded, because of course it was. Minghao obediently held the front right-wing tyre cover and tried not to make eye contact with Mingyu.
The world's most expensive blankets, he thought, staring down at the tyre cover as it continued to warm up the tyre in front of him.
Mingyu was currently staring ahead into the distance. His visor had not yet been put down, so Minghao gave Mingyu an awkward smile.
Minghao always enjoyed the silence before races. Everyone was hyperfocused and on edge, and he enjoyed the way his mind would eventually filter itself, only surrounding itself with a possible win on the horizon. Some choice tracks of his were playing overhead as the garage slowed itself down to focus on the steady heartbeat of the car.
If mechanics were the vessels leading towards the centre, then the driver was at the very core of it all; its grotesque and still-beating heart. Endless hours pored over setups wouldn't matter if the driver was an absolute tit and fucked it all up.
Don't fuck it up, everyone seemed to say, eyeing Mingyu warily, displeased at the way he'd spun out during his last outlap during their last Free Practice. The steady thudding beat of a house track pulsated throughout the garage, waiting to burst.
With eleven minutes left in Q1 of Qualifying, Minghao's fellow mechanics released their tyre blankets and watched Mingyu exit the pit lane with absolute certainty.
Seokmin, Jeonghan's mechanic, was currently chewing gum as he talked with two hands shoved in his racing suit. He clapped Minghao on the shoulder. "What do you think?
Minghao raised his eyebrows. "About what?"
"Tomorrow's race."
Currently, Jeonghan was projected to do better than Mingyu by the pundits. Minghao gazed into the distance. "Some rivalry can't hurt us, can it?"
***
Mingyu returned, frustrated, eyeing the screen.
P7, it said.
"It's Q1, mate, no worries about it," another mechanic said, and Minghao was inclined to agree. There was no point pushing the car to its limits in the first quarter, after all, when there were two more to go. The final battle would only begin then.
Mingyu just made a frustrated gesture towards his steering wheel instead.
Minghao looked at him. "Is there a problem?"
"No there fucking isn't," Mingyu said.
"Hurry up, mate, out with your complaints, we don't have all day," Rusty said, eyeing him with disdain. Rusty was a middle-aged mechanic from Milton Keynes who liked to proclaim that he was far too old for the shenanigans of a young Korean.
"There...was a lot of understeer right before Radillon," Mingyu said unhappily.
Drivers came up with a lot of excuses. Minghao was getting better at discerning whether they were genuine complaints with the car, or whether they were down to the driver. This time round, he couldn't tell.
He searched Mingyu's face for clues, but he came up with nothing. Mingyu's face remained impassive as ever. Minghao wanted to punch him. The thought was sudden and swift, but it winded him all the same.
"You listening to this?" Rusty said, brows raised.
Minghao nodded. Communicating with the Western mechanics seemed to involve a lot of swearing, so when they didn't swear, Minghao only felt as though he'd fucked up. There was also a problem with sarcasm, which he'd only learnt through being around them. Easy to mimic, hard to detect, he thought.
Their setup would have to be the same today as tomorrow's. If Mingyu was complaining about understeer this late in the game, Minghao could only pray to the gods for something to go their way the following day.
"Just make sure to extract what you can from the car," Minghao said. "Don't push yourself too hard."
Mingyu sneered at him, making Minghao break his gaze.
***
Mingyu’s suspicions weren't entirely unfounded, after all. Jeonghan managed to stay on top of him and other midfield teams such as in the standings, taking the car to its limits.
Jeonghan returned from Q2 smiling whilst Mingyu stayed in his car, stony-faced. P4 and P10, respectively. Mingyu had fallen in the standings. Had barely made it to Q3. Was a position away from being knocked out.
"Not gonna lie," Rusty said, lips quirked upwards, "I kind of wish he had gotten knocked out."
Minghao felt his brows shoot upwards. "Why?"
"So that he could've chosen his tyres for tomorrow instead of having to use the old ones from today."
Fuck, Rusty was right. Minghao schooled his features, trying to not let his disappointment bleed through. "You're right," Minghao muttered, suddenly displeased. If Mingyu was going to work shoddily, he might as well have made it easy for the rest of the team.
"Might be the suspension," Mingyu said, and in a matter of seconds, someone handed Minghao a canister of suspension polish. He sprayed it dutifully, making sure that all suspension components were covered.
Meanwhile, the other mechanics prepped the car by cleaning it and downloading data from it. Minghao gazed upon its umbilical cord and turned away. From here, he could spot Minhyuk squinting at the telemetry on the screen while sighing. They were supposed to compare data between the cars, of course, but the fact that he seemed upset was enough to make Minghao sweat.
He walked over to Minhyuk. "Did Jeonghan experience understeer in Radillon as well?"
Seokmin made a face. "No. Did he?" He gestured over to Mingyu, who was staring into nothing from the driver's cockpit.
"What do you think?"
"Honestly?" Seokmin paused for a moment.
Minghao nodded. "Yeah." They needed all the information they could get, after all, no matter how painful the truth.
"I think he's been sloppy all weekend while the car's been excellent."
The other mechanics seemed to think so, too. Jeonghan had been performing at a stellar pace as well. Great, Minghao thought. Fantastic, even.
***
Qualifying ended with their spots being firmly in place. Jeonghan, P4. Mingyu, dead last among the group.
"You made it to Q3, well done," Minghao managed to say, finally. Mingyu took one look at him and turned away.