stuttered words

+1

+1 – 2023

Charles can’t believe another year has passed. After the party, everything went by so fast, that he didn’t have time to confront Max about the almost-kiss they had. But – he thought – no worries. This is going to be our year with Ferrari, and I will be fighting for the championship alongside him, so I could just mention the (very casual) question: WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED BETWEEN US AT THE PARTY???!! to the him at the cooldown room or something.

Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.

He won four races. Four is not even slightly enough to win a championship. He trusted the team, trusted the car, but of course, nothing ever works out in his favour. Four race wins, and eight podiums. That was his season. Race after race, his frustration grew, his smile was fading and if these wouldn’t have been enough, he started developing severe sleeping problems. The circles under his eyes darkened with every bad weekend.

On the other side, the only way he was slightly happy, was when Max won. Some people might find it odd that one is happy when his rival wins, but Charles wasn’t even slightly bothered by “some people”. He was proud of Max. He truly deserved it.

Speaking of Max, it seemed the Dutchman was ignoring him, and was trying his best to stay away from him, sadly successfully. There were some awkward nods in the paddock, some quiet “hi”s, but no more. Even when Charles wanted to seek Max’s comfort after bad weekends, it seemed like he just brushed him off and came up with some weird excuse about where he should be at the moment and ran away. Charles’ only hope was Austria. He finally won a race again, and Max was on the podium as well, next to him, and when they were spraying champagne, it seemed like he could finally talk to the Dutchman, but after the celebrations, the interviews, and other mandatory exercise, he just disappeared. Not even Daniel knew where he was.

So, Charles gave up trying.

But that didn’t mean, that his problems were solved. Even when the season ended, he couldn’t sleep. Every night, he dozed off for two-three hours. He tried every single product, tea, eye mask, oils, and even candles, but seemingly nothing was working. did he really have insomnia or something?

But the peak was only reached at the end of the year. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t sleep, not even for ten minutes, and it really showed. He looked like zombie. His family was so worried for him, his mom offered that he could sleep at her place so that she could take care of her son. Charles declined though. He didn’t want her to worry. So, at New Years (which he spent alone, because a lot of drivers had different programs, so they decided not to hold the party this year.) when he was laying in bed, he remembered back, what happened two years ago.

Max came to his place. He confronted him when he couldn’t run away. This is what he should do also! How did he not think about this before? He loves Max, and apparently, maybe Max likes him.

He slipped out of bed, ran to his wardrobe to find some clothes, which were warm enough so he would not freeze outside. He grabbed his keys and rushed out of the apartment. He knew Max would be home, because he overheard him talking with Lando on the last race weekend, while talking about their plans for the winter break. So, he was not surprised when he saw the light on in the Dutchman’s apartment. (Not caring about the fact that what is a perfectly normal person doing awake at 3 am.)

He knocked urgently on the door waiting for him to answer, but when the door opened, he froze. Max’s hair was messy, his dirty blond locks all over his face, he was dressed in a comfy pair of pants and sweater, looking quite surprised.

- Charlie…

- Maxy, I… I am sorry to barge in so late, and I am sorry so disturb you or anything, but I just wanted to do this so bad.

The Monegasque launched himself in Max’s arms, which curled around his waist in a moment. Charles’ hands were behind the Dutchman’s neck pulling him closer. Their lips connected, finally, after so much waiting, suffering, and longing. Those two lips danced a heated battle over the control, which Max finally got. He pushed Charles away, just a centimetre, when they could finally look into each other’s eyes. The moment the blue connected with the green.

- You don’t know how long I have wanted to do that – Max looked at Charles.

- But then why were you neglecting me so much, this year?

-I thought I ruined everything last year when I tried to kiss you, and I was so embarrassed, that I didn’t even think about the fact that – seemingly, you might have wanted it too. – Charles blushed.

-Now, let’s get you inside. – Max pulled Charles inside the apartment. The TV was on, Max was watching some kind of film before Charles arrived.

They spent the evening discussing what they should’ve done already before. Turns out, Max liked Charles from when he joined Formula 1, three years after Max. He didn’t know wat the form of affection was at the time, he believed it was no more than pure rivalry, but he realized it was love when he watched the “who am I” YouTube video with Charles and Seb, in which in some part of the video, they were discussing whether Charles thinks Max looks cute or not, and the Dutchman found himself wanting Charles to say yes.

When they woke up in the morning, and Charles realized, he had just slept the entire night through, and now, he has a strong arm wrapped around his shoulders, and he is currently lying on a well-engraved chest, feeling the steady breaths of the Dutchman, he thought that maybe, just maybe… this was all worth it.