A/N: Here we are! The 2024 season has begun <3
In 2018, I did a series like this on AO3, but every fanfic was set in its own universe. However, for 2024, I decided I wanted to let fate fully decide where this story goes. After every big F1 event - GPs, tests and big breaks - I'll try to upload a new chapter as soon as possible. Where this will go, will fully depend on Charles and Max. So let's hope they've got a cracking title fight!
I'm scared and excited to start a commitment to a big fanfic, but I know I'll never get sick of Lestappen, and being able to look back on this in December will be amazing. So, welcome and enjoy the ride!
"When you said you're bad at padel, I didn't actually believe you'd suck at it, putain!"
Well, Max should have seen that one coming. He raises his head to look at a very frustrated Ferrari driver. "I did warn you, didn't I?"
Charles rolls his eyes, dropping down next to the Dutchman. He discards his padel racket with a sigh before lying flat on the field.
"Ay, no rematch?" Lando screams from the opposite side in good humor. Fernando is still celebrating in a corner, doing some funky dance Max vaguely remembers from his Renault days.
Before Max can answer his best friend, Charles flips off the Britt from his position on the floor. It only makes Lando laugh louder. "Come on, old man. Oscar and Logan should be around here somewhere. Maybe we can ask them."
Fernando turns surprised as Lando loops an arm around the older man's shoulders before pulling him toward a nearby court, where another group of drivers' laughter vibrates over the Bahrain International Circuit's sports area.
Max focuses on Charles again, who's eyes shut with a grimance. "I think I pulled a muscle running after your ball."
A snort escapes the Dutchman. "I didn't ask you to run after it like a madman. Besides, we were losing anyway."
"Since when do you enjoy losing?" Charles counters, opening one eye to check out his rival. Max narrows his eyes at the Monegasque. Charles chuckles: "Relax! I'm only teasing you." He grabs Max' right thigh, squeezing it before resting his hand in the same spot.
Max feels heat pool into his cheeks, eyes locked on the hand resting on his leg. It's no secret that Max and Charles have gotten a lot closer in the past year. He even calls Charles one of his closer friends in the paddock now. Yet, he isn't sure if Charles sees it the same way. The Ferrari driver isn't as vocal about it as he is. 'Maybe he'd rather show it?' Max thinks as he sees the content smile on Charles face as he turns his head away from the sun to look at Max.
Max parts his lips to speak, but he can't. The forest green eyes keep him silent, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of red. Maybe Max has formed some sort of feeling for his newfound friend. Maybe Max has been in love with Charles for as long as he can remember. Maybe Max is pretty sure Charlie won't reciprocate those feelings. Maybe... He looks down at the hand that's rubbing circles on the lean muscles. Maybe he isn't sure about anything anymore.
"Spit it out, Max. It looks like you're going to get a headache if you keep at it," Charles says, lifting one eyebrow. Max takes the look as a challenge, but he isn't ready to take him up on it just yet. "I was just thinking about testing and the GP."
'That lie went fairly smoothly.'
Charles' hand stills. Does Max see a hint of disappointment in the Monegasque's features? Or is it his imagination?
"You're going to win it, Max. After I take pole, of course," Charles says matter-of-factly before pushing himself to his feet. He picks up his racket before offering the Dutchman a hand.
"You don't know that," Max answers, grabbing Charles' extended hand. "We were suddenly up there after Lewis' biggest season. It can all change in the blink of an eye."
"True." Max is on his feet in no time, standing face-to-face with the Ferrari driver, their noses only inches apart. "But Lewis isn't you. You're something else, Max. You only got to believe it yourself."
Max doesn't know what to say to that. His eyes draw over every inch of Charles' face. His green eyes with brown specks, the sweat dripping down his face, his lips curled in a small smile... "If only you saw yourself the way all of us do. The way I do."
The Dutchman's pulled back to reality. He swallows before taking a step back. "Thanks." is all he manages to say.
"Anytime," Charles replies with his trademark wink. Max feels the blush creep back into his cheeks. "Let's go find Lando and Fernando. I need that rematch."
Before Max can answer, the Monegasque has taken off in the direction their fellow drivers went. Max lets go of a breath he didn't know he was holding. Maybe it's time to face the fact that he has growing feelings for his longtime rival and possible direct contender this championship year. Or maybe he can keep it bottled up a little longer. The Bahrain GP is around the corner after all.
"Are you coming, buddy?" Charles is back at the entrance, standing in the frame of the gate to the court. That trademark smile of his is shining brightly in Max's direction. The Dutchman can't help but rub his hair, scratching the strands behind his right ear. A nervous tic Daniel has teased him about before. "You wanna be on my team again?"
Charles rolls his eyes, strolling toward the Red Bull driver. For a second, Max's afraid that Charles is going to hit him with his racket. He lifts an arm in defense. "Of course, babe."
Charles grabs Max's hand, dragging him to the exit. "We've got to settle this once and for all."
Maybe keeping his feelings bottled up will be a lot harder than Max expected.
YOU ARE READING
If Clarity's in Death, Then Why Won't This Die?
Romance"Max doesn't know what to say. His eyes draw over every inch of Charles's face. His green eyes with brown specks, the sweat dripping down his face, his lips curled in a small smile... "If only you saw yourself the way all of us do. The way I do." Ma...
